The Golden Touch
by nightmares06
Summary: (Part 2 of Brothers Apart) After being separated for over a decade, Sam and Dean are still trying to get used to living with each other again. Four inch tall Sam is just starting to adjust to living with a gigantic human when they find something in Dean's pocket that sets them on the road with a new case.
1. Flight

**A/N:** This is the second part to _**Brothers Apart**_. If you are interested in reading the first part, you can find it on my profile.

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><p>She flew through the dark forest, dodging scraggly branches that reached for her, claw like tips scratching her wings if she brushed too close. Her quarry was running still, long legs trying to outdistance her with an unexpected determination. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself to the limit. She couldn't let him escape, not with what he'd taken. Not with what was at risk.<p>

She and her sisters were bound by birthright to protect it, sacred vows taken that chained her to her purpose. It was as natural to her as blood. And now it had been stolen. Taken from its ancient resting place for the first time since being banished to this plane.

Full of purpose, she managed to pull up almost alongside him. She was the fastest, her sisters long since fallen behind. He glared at her out of the corner of his eye, unable to reach her as high up as she was. She could see the amulet clenched in his fist, the cord snapped from when he ripped it off the statue.

"Lityerses, stop this!" She shouted. "It is not too late to go back!"

He snarled in response. Ducking down, he grabbed a rock while he was running, whipping it after her. She flipped in a fast circle to dodge it, and shrieked when a second flew through the air right after. Recovering, she growled when she saw he was outdistancing her.

_He cannot reach the portal... Oh, I hope to the goddess my sisters have closed it._

She resumed her fevered pace, wings aching with pain from the exertion. As fast as she was, he was so much larger than her she had to work extra hard just to keep pace. Ahead, she noticed the tree line starting to thin. The world started to lighten around them.

Despairing, she pushed herself harder. Just a little more... Ahead, she could see the soft light of the portal. Still open, accessible to all in the realm. He reached it, skidding to a stop. A chant flowed from his lips without hesitation, telling the portal what world to go too.

Hissing, she raised her arms, stopping barely a few feet away from him. The blue light swirled around her, shooting at him. He smirked, turning around in time to wave his hand through her blast. It dissipated into the air.

"My dear little Daughter of Zoë, what makes you think I am so easy to stop?" His deep voice trembled in the air. Behind him, the portal settled on a steady pulse of blues and greens. His chant had already taken effect. He stepped backward, foot in the portal. He raised his hand at her, dark energy swirling around as he redirected the excess energy of the portal. It arced at her like negative lighting.

She dodged his first blast, swirling light surrounding her. She dove down, angling for the amulet. If she could only get it away from him, this nightmare would be over...

Flipping around another blast of lightning, she missed the hand barreling at her from the side. It crushed around her the moment she released her magic, snapping her wing with ease while the sky lit up blue. He stumbled back, slipping into the portal with her still in his hands.

The world went white.

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><p>Dean woke up.<p>

Blinking, he tried to clear his vision. It was so _dark._ No light came in from the window, with the shades shut tight. In the entire room, the only illumination came from the alarm clock on the nightstand, shining bright red letters with pride.

3:04 a.m. _Awesome._

Wondering what had woken him at this godforsaken hour, he lay still, listening to the night. After a few minutes, he realized at the edge of hearing, someone was crying out. "No, not them. Please, I'm sorry... let them go... take me... _NO!"_

_Sammy._

Realizing it must have been his brothers cries that woke him, Dean shifted in his bed, sitting up. It was painful to hear his brother in so much fear and panic, almost lost to the world while he suffered on in sleep. The cries continued, "No... I'm sorry... please, stop! All my fault... my fault! Take me instead..."

Dean closed his eyes, tortured by the sound of fear in Sam's small voice. Every night, the same pain. The same fear. Sam refused to admit to the nightmares during the day, stubbornly denying that anything bothered him.

Unable to sit there and just listen anymore, Dean slipped off the side of his bed. Since he'd joined up with his brother again after so many years apart, Sam had been having nightmares every night. Not a single night had passed where he didn't hear his brother crying out in fear and panic.

He flipped on the light next to him, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Dean knelt down by the nightstand, peering past the books he'd piled at the edge of the bottom shelf, placed there to give Sam some privacy. He knew it was hard on his brother, being only four inches tall in a room made for humans. Everything soared over his head, nothing was catered to his size. Sam wasn't used to being around humans at all anymore, and suddenly he was living with one, day and night. The books gave him a little separation, a little privacy, enough for him to pretend he was alone in his own room.

"Sam?" Dean called out, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Sammy?"

When there was no response, only continued mumbles that were now too low to make out coming from behind the makeshift wall, Dean sighed. He carefully pulled the books out, revealing the tiny little bed hidden behind. Sam had managed to fall off it, wrapped up in his sheet and still fighting against the air. Every night he lived out his nightmare the same way. Dean gently reached forward, carefully scooping his pint-sized brother into his hand. Sam didn't resist at all, lost to the waking world. Not that he'd ever be able to stop Dean the way he was, but Dean did his best to stay mindful of Sam, knowing how much he'd hate being forcibly manhandled himself. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate his brother after finding him again so many years later.

Once he had Sam safely cupped in his palm, he started to cautiously stroke his back with a careful finger. It still shocked Dean to see Sam stretched out next to a finger that was easily the same size as him. He was far too aware of how devastating his touch could be if he gripped Sam too tight, or heaven forbid not notice Sam when he was walking one time.

Slowly, his brother started to calm down. The thrashes died off and the moaning stopped shortly after, Sam relaxing into the hand supporting him. Dean managed a smile. He was worried about how this happened to Sam every time he fell asleep. He was about to put Sam back down on his little bed when he hesitated. If he left Sam down there alone, this would only happen again. And again. The other night, Dean had woken up like this no less than four separate occasions. Tonight, a different idea came to him. That way, he might actually get some sleep.

He put all the books back on the shelf, returning it to normal. Holding the still fast-asleep Sam cupped gently against his chest, he hauled himself to his feet. Laying down on his back, he slipped Sam into his chest pocket. Sam always declared how much he hated being confined in pockets, but every time he'd fallen asleep in Dean's (mostly out of boredom when they were in a store and he had to stay out of sight), he hadn't had a single nightmare yet. Dean knew he wouldn't roll over in his sleep lying like this, so Sam would be perfectly safe. And they might both finally get some well needed rest. All the adjusting to living together again after being reunited took a lot out of a man. And it's not like Sam couldn't get out of the pocket if he needed too today, a whole different story from when Dean was standing in a store full of people.

Finally content, Dean settled down in the bed, draping a hand over his little brother for extra protection. The tiny weight against his chest reassured him as he slipped into sleep once more. Sammy was safe, and that was all that mattered.

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><p>Sunlight streamed through the blinds in the early morning air. Sam groaned in annoyance, trying to roll away from the light and go back to sleep. It was way too early to get up. His attempt didn't get him far. There was something pinning him in place.<p>

It occurred to him that there shouldn't be any sunlight where he'd fallen asleep the night before.

Confused, Sam's eyes snapped open. He sat up. To his surprise, he found himself laying on a wide green expanse, a huge hand cupped around him, holding him gently in place. Warmth surrounded him on all sides, trying to lull him back to sleep. He'd never been so warm since shrinking down. At his size, the world was a colder place to live in, his skin too thin to warm him most nights.

Turning, he saw Dean's face turned to the side not too far from him, with a view of the underside of his chin and nose all Sam could make out from the angle he was at. Realization of where he was finally dawned on him - Sam was tucked down inside the chest pocket of Dean's shirt, serving as a makeshift sleeping bag.

For a few moments, he settled back down. He would never tell Dean this, but it wasn't so bad in here. He felt safe, and protected. As long as he'd lived at this size, that wasn't a feeling he often had. Even sleeping in his own bed in the little house he'd lived in all those years at this size, there had always been a chance of discovery and capture, the knowledge that if you let your guard down even for a moment it might be your last. But here he was, perfectly safe in a _human's_ pocket. A human who'd never let anything happen to him. And the steady up and down motion of Dean's breathing coupled with the constant thrum of the strong heart under where Sam was laying was surprisingly calming, making his fears and insecurities seem unimportant. Here, at least, he could feel like he belonged.

The last few days had been some of the strangest in his entire life. He'd spent a lot of time with Dean as a kid, but they'd always been the same size (or at least decently close to it, compared to now where he was the size of a finger, if that). And after he'd been cursed by the witch, he'd lived with other people his size, completely avoiding the suddenly giant, dangerous humans, separated from the only family he'd ever known. This was the first time actually living with someone so much... bigger. Dean was very careful around Sam all the time, but Sam still couldn't help being nervous around him. And, on purpose or not, Dean came across as a very intimidating guy a lot of the time as well. But Sam could tell he was trying, very hard.

Still, standing on the ground with those huge boots clomping by you was not for the faint of heart. And he stood so low on the ground, it was sometimes hard to tell if Dean was looking down to see where Sam was. So far, Dean always took careful note of where Sam was standing, and always said he didn't mind staying away from Sam on the floor, but Sam wanted to get used to it, knowing he would likely spend the rest of his life this way. He didn't want Dean to have to sit down out of the way just because Sam wanted to take a walk. But... with his brother's boots alone being half the size of his old home, it wasn't easy staying cool.

Still, he had to admit it was nice to be able to interact even a little in the human world again. Remembering this was normal for Dean gave Sam a strange feeling inside - they were so completely different now. Going outside with Dean had been the first time he'd been out of the motel since being cursed. He missed the days when he was a kid, able to explore the woods with his brother with carefree abandon. And he didn't feel like he was going to end up a snack for some stray cat or a hawk while he was with his brother.

Not to mention, he'd been able to watch TV without worrying about being discovered and caught. Dean had declared movie night when he found out Sam had never seen most of Dean's favorites. He'd placed Sam on the pillow next to him, in front of the huge TV. Sitting like that, laughing at the punch lines and eating popcorn with his brother almost made Sam feel like he was normal again. He almost forgot how tiny he was while the movie was on... Dean treated him just like anyone else. Like he was normal.

Naturally, Dean had made him watch _The Borrowers_ as soon as he'd been able to find it on the internet, children's movie or not. Sam had to admit, it wasn't too far off from what his life had been... always sneaking around, using what they could find to survive. Although the Borrowers in the movie were a bit larger than he was. And he hadn't liked watching them get trapped in jars. It was nerve-wracking to think of how easy it would be for _him_ to end up like that.

Plus, his family had it a tiny bit easier in some ways. While the Borrowers in the movie had to worry about the missing items in the house being noticed, his family had lived in a motel. People forgot things all the time, and the people who stayed there changed constantly, making it harder for anyone to notice their presence.

The only part of the movie he had trouble with were the clothes. The clothes in the movie had been all thick and coarse, horribly uncomfortable looking, with huge buttons on them. Honestly, who was going to put a button the size of a dinner plate on their shirt? His clothes were very similar to his brother's, apart from how small they were. They were comfortable, well-worn and made to last. His adopted mother was to thank for that. She had been a master at making her own clothing, gathering thread and scraps of forgotten cloth that she would remake into perfectly sized outfits. Everything he owned had been modeled off the clothes he'd been wearing when he was cursed. She'd liked the design so much, she'd even made some for Walt the same way.

His emotions turned to the sour side at the thought of her. Losing his adopted parents was one of the hardest things he'd gone through... even harder than when he was originally cursed. They had put so much effort into helping him, had treated him as their own son the entire time he lived with them. And in the end, they'd died because of him. He sighed, burrowing down farther into the warm pocket, under the steady weight of his brother's hand for comfort.

He didn't get out for at least another half hour, enjoying the rare security he found like this with his brother. He'd never admit to Dean how much he enjoyed it in there. His brother still thought he preferred to sit on the shoulder more, and he did, but it was nice to not have to worry about constantly keeping his balance, and no fear that a sudden move from Dean would knock him off. And even though the pocket was confining, it was warm, and soft, and safe.

He was curious how he'd ended up in the pocket... the night before he remembered falling asleep in his own bed, underneath the nightstand. Dean must have moved him for some reason... somehow without Sam ever waking up or noticing, something he wouldn't expect when being picked up by a guy the size of a building. Dean might be many things, but 'subtle' wasn't one of them, compared to Sam. He couldn't even remember having his usual nightmares that night. They'd been plaguing him worse than before, each time reliving the night of his parent's death, the guilt over his failure to save them building. Over and over and over...

Trying to distract himself from these thoughts, Sam squeezed out from under Dean's hand at last, hauling himself free of the pocket. Dean didn't give any sign that he'd noticed Sam's movements, sleeping peacefully on. Sam stretched in the cool morning air, working to keep his balance on the soft ground. The steady up and down motion of the chest was conspiring with the strange texture of the ground to knock him off balance constantly.

He considered waking Dean up for a few minutes before he decided there was no reason to yet. It's not like they had anything planned that day. And so far, he had no idea how Dean would react to being woken up. He didn't need to get swatted down by his paranoid brother by accident. It would ruin an otherwise perfect morning. He slipped down off Dean's chest, practically bouncing across the bed until he reached the edge of the nightstand. He hopped across the small gap, intent on the remote control lying there.

He turned on the TV, enjoying the news while his giant brother slumbered on. Since they hadn't found a new hunt yet to go after, they'd had pretty lazy days, still getting used to traveling together again. Dean checked every day for a new case for them, canvassing the towns they passed through, reading through the newspapers, checking the internet... nothing so far. Sam had started to work on catching up on everything he'd missed in the time he'd been separated from his family, learning about the different monsters his brother had fought, and even stealing some time on the laptop to read about the rest of the world when Dean was busy.

About an hour after Sam started watching TV, Dean woke up. He stretched, yawning hugely. Then froze, eyes going right to his pocket. "Sam?"

Sam hid a smile while he watched his brother panic for a few minutes, patting himself down. He searched everywhere on the bed for Sam, even going so far as to check under the pillows. When Sam decided Dean had had enough, he waved, saying "Morning, sunshine!" And then grinned broadly at the apparent relief in his brother's face.

"You're awfully chipper this morning." Dean managed, clearing his throat with a half-hearted glare in Sam's direction. He brushed a hand through his short hair to straighten it. "How long you been up?" Dean asked curiously, swinging his legs off the bed.

"Not long." Sam eyed his brother up. "By the way, how'd I end up in your pocket last night? I think I would have remembered that."

"Oh. Yeah. You had another of those nightmares. I tried picking you up to calm you down, and it worked." Dean flexed his hand unconsciously, rubbing his palm with a thumb. "But then, the last time I did that you ended up having more nightmares later on, so I figured maybe you'd sleep better in the pocket. After all, you haven't had any nightmares the times you fell asleep in my pocket before."

"Dean, the longest I've been in your pocket is like an hour before. It's not like I'm gonna have a nightmare that fast."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? I don't seem to remember you kicking me awake at all last night." Dean stood up, blocking the TV from where Sam was sitting. "I'm gonna run and grab a shower, you need anything?"

"I'm good." Sam said. He hopped back over to the bed, intent on climbing back down to his bed under the nightstand. All his belongings were down there.

Dean cocked his head, watching Sam's progress with a small smirk. "You wanna lift?"

"Uh," Sam briefly considered the height, then his wrist. He was fairly sure it was healed, but with it still wrapped, climbing down would be a bitch. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

Dean held his hand out a few inches from Sam, waiting patiently for his little brother to step on before lowering it down next to his feet. Sam stepped off, unafraid of being on the floor like this with his big brother walking around. Or at least, mostly unafraid. It was still nerve-wracking to feel the floor shake beneath him whenever Dean took a step. But he knew he didn't have to worry about his brother stepping on him at the very least, so long as Dean knew where he was.

He climbed up onto the bottom shelf of the nightstand while Dean left to do his own thing. It was at chest height for him so he didn't have a problem scrambling up. The huge stack of books sitting there blocked out most of the room from view, only letting in a little light from the room's window. It was nice to have a little room to himself, with stuff that was almost made for his size surrounding him. The only part that ruined the illusion was the stack of books sitting innocently on the edge of the shelf, towering over all Sam's stuff.

He sat on the bed, pulling out the clothes he wanted to wear from the little bag Dean had found for Sam to keep his clothes in, along with his boots. Even from here, he could feel the floor shake a little while his brother walked around. It was not going to be easy to get used to that. Not easy at all.

Any time the floor shook that way while growing up, it meant they had to be quiet and still, hiding their existence from giant humans that could easily capture them if they were discovered. That instinct was so embedded in him after all those years he could still feel his insides freeze up when Dean was walking around. And he knew he didn't want to lose that instinct completely, in case anyone but Dean ever found him. His life could end up depending on it one day.

Both brothers went through their normal morning routine. Sam had a small cup of water next to his bed that Dean left him. He used it to wash off, and to wash his clothes if he had time. And a bottlecap of water as well for a drink. He sighed, scrubbing his fingers through his messy hair. He'd have to see if he couldn't get a hold of some of Dean's shampoo for it later...

Digging through his bag, he found a small razorblade his adopted father had made for him once he hit puberty. It wasn't as elegant as what humans used to shave with, but as long as he kept it sharpened it got the job done. He found beards itchy and uncomfortable, so the last thing he wanted to do was grow one. With a steady hand, he carefully shaved off the bit of hair on his face.

A little while later, when Sam was finished with his normal morning routine, a huge thump came from right outside the nightstand. Sam peeked around the books, seeing his nothing but his brother's boots filling the opening. His breathing hitched briefly, a slight fear still present at the sheer size of them. Plus less than a week ago, seeing a human so close like that would have sent him running for cover. A brief flashback of fingers crushing his body into them hit, sending a shiver up his back. The feeling only lasted for a moment before Dean knelt down, gentle green eyes peering in from above and dispelling Sam's insecurities. "You want to come with me for breakfast?"

Sam came around the corner so Dean would be able to see him. "Uh, I'll be fine here."

Dean scowled. "You know I hate leaving you here alone. If anyone else ever finds you..."

Sam cut him off. "Dean, I'll be _fine_. I know how to take care of myself, you know. I lived like this for a long time without you around."

"Yeah, whatever pipsqueak." Dean rubbed his face, worry showing through his normal tough-guy facade. He pushed on to the next topic. "But one of these days you'll have to come. The food tastes so much better when it's hot off the grill."

Sam smirked. His brother had been determined to make up for all the years of Sam living off scraps by feeding him what Dean considered the necessities in life. Coffee had been the first attempt after the pizza... Sam had almost gagged the first time, trying it hot and black the way Dean liked it. Dean had cracked up at the sight, practically laughing his ass off when he saw Sam's face. After that, he let Sam have it sugared and creamed enough it almost couldn't be considered coffee anymore... but the taste was so much better. And it certainly woke Sam up. He had to admit, once it was sweetened it wasn't so bad. And Dean swore by the stuff.

Sam hoped he could get Dean to understand. "I just... it's not the same for me, you know? I either have to stay in your pocket the whole time to avoid being seen, or you find a seat in a corner no one can see into so I can come out a little, and you still have to worry about the waitress coming by and spotting me." He sighed at Dean's crestfallen look, knowing he meant well. The problem was when it came to public places full of other humans, Sam and Dean just lived in completely different worlds. "Look, I'll come with you next time, I promise."

"Deal. Anything you want me to bring back?"

"Uh, whatever you get is fine."

"Dude, you _can_ try other things from what I get. I really don't mind."

Sam stared down at his boots for a moment before responding. "I just don't want to waste your money when I can't eat all of what you bring back in the first place," he said quietly.

"Sam, its fine. I told you not to worry about that. Money is not a problem here."

Sam waved him off. "My answer still stands. I wouldn't know what else to get anyway."

Dean sighed, rocking back on his heels. Kneeling down to see into Sam's little alcove wasn't a very comfortable position for him. "You remember what to do if anyone but me comes in?"

"Yeah, head for the hardest to reach place in the room, or try to get into the walls like at the motel I lived in."

"And how will you know it's me coming in?"

Sam sighed. "Two knocks on the door before you open it. If there's no knocks, whether it's you or not, I hightail it for cover. I _can_ remember, you know."

"Hey, it only takes one time. Dad does the same thing when he's around."

"Just means he's as crazy as you." Sam grinned up at his giant of a brother, making a shooing gesture with his hands. He'd never admit how touched he was at how much Dean cared. Just like when they were kids. Didn't matter what Sam was now, to Dean they would always be brothers. "Dean, I'll be _fine._ Go get your food."

"Whatever, short stuff."

Dean stood up, disappearing from view. Sam watched the massive boots for a moment, tapping against the ground as though there was something more Dean wanted to say to him. Then they turned and thudded away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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><p><strong>AN**

And... the Brothers Apart series continues!

Sam and Dean are still getting used to each other. Living with a human isn't the easiest thing to adjust to when you're so small and easily overlooked... good thing Dean's such a good big brother!

Story happens before **Season 1: Episode 9 Home**


	2. Landing

**A/N:**

I have a few links on my profile now to images that either inspired or were inspired by my other stories. That is all.

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><p>Sam spent most of the time Dean was gone occupied on his bed. He was keeping a record of every monster he'd read about or heard about in his journal, so he could easily reach the information when he needed it, without having to rely on Dean to get him a book or open the computer. He hated any feeling of reliance, but trying to live in the human world while less than half a foot tall forced it on him.<p>

So far, he had read through a good portion of their dad's journal and was slowly filling in some of the blanks thanks to the wonders of web searching. He was getting the hang of using a computer fast. Like it was something he'd been meant to do all along. Every morning after a night spent researching on the computer, he'd fill in more of his journal with information from the session. It was a good thing to do to fill his time when his brother wasn't around. And he'd also been learning what his family had been up to all those years he'd been separated from them, pouring over every inch of his father's journal. The only blanks left were what Dean had been up to while he was separated from John.

His stomach rumbled, making him glad Dean was out getting food. He should really look into keeping a few things to the side in case he ever needed it... being completely dependent, even on his brother, would be a bad idea for him. What if something happened to Dean? Or they got separated. There were a million things that could go wrong at any time. And it wasn't exactly easy to get ahold of food at this size.

Sitting up in bed, Sam rubbed his wrist. There wasn't any pain in it any more when he moved it. He slowly unwrapped it, carefully flexing the fingers and making sure he could rotate the wrist. It hasn't been a bad sprain, thankfully. Later he'd have to see how well he did climbing to see if it was healed all the way. If his wrist was completely healed, he'd be able to get around on his own, without needing any help from Dean anymore. Just like all the years he'd spent living in that motel. And, he was hoping to explore some of these motels, see if he could find anyone else his size. He had no intention of abandoning his brother to live the way he'd used too, but it'd be nice to have someone else his size to talk to, even if only for a little while. The families in that motel couldn't be the only ones out there his size. His adopted family had always mentioned there were others out there, he just had to find them.

And it would give him something to do when Dean wasn't around. There were places Dean didn't think it was safe to have his four inch brother with him, or times when they'd both need space. It was good to have a plan for those times.

It was around a half hour before Dean returned, his arrival predictably heralded by the two knocks on the door. Sam didn't even bother moving from the bed, as he was currently comfortably sprawled out, working with his book and trying to sketch out the symbol for a Wendigo. A huge shadow fell over the nightstand for a moment, making Sam freeze up instinctively before his brother's distinctive thudding footsteps walked away. At the delicious smell of fresh food, his stomach rumbled again, making him focus on what was really important here. Sam hauled himself out of the little bed to peer around the stack of books.

On the edge of the shelf, Dean had left him a napkin with some eggs and a bit of pancake with them. A small bottlecap was sitting to the side, smelling of extra sugary coffee. Using the napkin like a picnic blanket, Sam happily settled down and dug in, enjoying the deliciously fresh food that used to be a rarity in his life. There were definite upsides to living with a human. This had to be one of the best meals of his life. Years of living off motel room leftovers and food snuck from the kitchens had taught him that. And Dean ate like this all the time.

Sitting there on the edge of the shelf with his food, Sam watched as his brother settled down at the small (to Dean - it towered over Sam's head) table in the room, pulling up his laptop while finishing his own breakfast. Sam usually avoided being around Dean when he was eating, because of how disconcerting it was too watch _anyone - _even Dean, whom he trusted with his life every single time he was picked up in those massive hands that could as easily crush Sam as lift him - eat bites of food almost as big as him. Another one of the many things that ground into Sam exactly how small and defenseless he was in this world.

Dean was probably checking for more cases again, or trying to see if he could pick up their dad's trail. Sam was curious about how the hunting went. He'd been too young before to ever go on a hunt with his father. Although he had been able to go to shooting ranges for target practice, and learned some of the more basic skills. And, he'd helped out with research whenever Dean bribed him. Not that he'd ever cared about the bribes. He'd been fascinated by the things his family hunted.

Now he wanted to learn everything he could about hunting. Anything that could help him find the bastard that killed his mom and adopted family. Dean was supportive for the most part, but he didn't seem to like the idea of Sam ever putting himself at risk on an actual hunt. He'd have to make his brother understand that he was serious about wanting to help, no matter his size. He couldn't sit around and let Dean do all the work. No way.

Once he was finished with the food (fresh eggs were _amazing_), he hauled himself to his feet, climbing down from the nightstand. Wondering what Dean was up to, he slid on the boots he'd stashed at the edge of the nightstand while eating. With determination he started the long trek across the motel room floor to the table, fueled by his sugar and caffeine rush. He knew Dean would be happy to help him cross the distance, but Sam needed to keep his independence on some things. And now that his wrist was better, he shouldn't need any help getting around at all. Just like before he met back up with Dean. He'd always been one of the best climbers in the motel where he lived. Walt had taught him well.

Sam casually jogged across the soft carpet, occasionally tripping over thicker strands. It was ankle high to him, made for the far larger humans who wouldn't even notice the thick knots that offset his balance easily. He tugged his boot out of the knotted strands, brushing off the dust that coated his foot. The motel here must have worse service than the one he used to live in, if that was possible. The rugs there had never been this bad to walk over.

He came up alongside Dean's chair, slowing down his jog. The huge boot near him was tapping aimlessly, to the beat of some rock tune or another. One thing that hadn't changed about Dean since they were children was his love of old school rock. The music in the Impala to this day continued to play out the old classics they'd listened to growing up. Dean hadn't taken Sam's suggestion of updating his music collection too well when he'd brought it up.

_"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."_

Smirking at the memory, Sam sized up his next obstacle. Dean didn't seem to have noticed him yet, still typing determinedly away at the computer overhead with one hand. The other arm was resting casually on the leg above Sam. Since it didn't seem like Dean was going anywhere at the moment, Sam figured he'd be safe trying to climb up on his own. It would be a good time to see if his wrist was up to it now.

As soon as Sam gripped Dean's pants, the boot stilled. Dean had finally noticed where Sam was, and his brother wouldn't purposely do anything that might hurt Sam. Ever. Taking it slow in case his wrist was still injured, Sam hauled himself up his sibling's jean-covered leg, scaling it like a denim-clad cliff. The jeans were well worn, and the coarse fabric offered plenty of finger holds for Sam at his size, so climbing was a breeze. Far easier than using the fishing line to get around on his own. And he had a feeling that if he slipped at all, Dean would be ready to catch him in a heartbeat.

There was a shifting in the shadows above him. Sam peered up cautiously - Dean had moved his arm off the leg, out of Sam's way. Sam smiled to himself, knowing how much Dean would want to help him, but was willing to let Sam do his own thing. Without the freedom to do what he wanted, even if it was something silly as using his brother's pants for climbing, Sam would be little better than a pet. No matter how much he trusted or cared for his brother, he would never let himself become a pet to be cared for. He knew he could handle himself in the world. He just needed to prove it to Dean.

After a bit more climbing, Sam was able to haul himself up onto Dean's wide knee, relaxing briefly on the solid surface. He took in his options briefly. From where he was standing, he could see the edge of the table stretching far over his head still. His brother's arm bridged the gap above, resting casually over Sam's head. The arm cast a dark shadow over the area where he was standing. Even Dean's face was blocked from this point of view. The huge green jacket he was wearing hung to Sam's right, draped over the side of Dean's thigh. It would make climbing up the rest of the way even easier. He could either try to climb up onto the table from here, which from the look of things was still too high over his head to jump to, and he would most likely need Dean's help to reach, or he could scale up Dean the rest of the way using the jacket, to his shoulder. From there, he could easily reach the table if he wanted to as long as his brother cooperated, and there was no reason he wouldn't.

Choosing the easier option, he climbed the rest of the way up Dean's side, the thick jacket making it fairly easy. With an exhausted sigh, he collapsed against his brother's neck once he reached the apex.

He could feel his brother silently laughing at him by the time he finally made it to the top, subtly shaking the shoulder he was on. "How you feeling, Tarzan?"

"You're a real comedian, you know that?"

Dean sniggered. "Of course, we all know how awesome I am." He switched to a serious tone. "So, how's your wrist doing after all that climbing, monkey boy?"

Sam held it up where Dean could spy it out of the corner of his eye. He flexed his fingers to show that the bandage had come off. "Great, doesn't hurt at all now. It thankfully wasn't too bad a sprain." Sitting on the edge of the shoulder with his legs hanging off, Sam inspected the computer from his perch. "Whatcha reading?"

"Just checking out Dad's last position. Trying to get a new lead on tracking him down."

"No luck so far?"

"No, nothing." Dean sighed. "I checked all the options... missing person's reports, obituaries, even ran his plates to see if he ran any red lights recently. Not a sign. When he wants to vanish, he really vanishes. There's no trace." He rubbed his face with his other hand, giving off an air of frustration.

Sam mused for a few moments, unsure of what he was about to say. "Dean, I've been thinking... you should call Dad, tell him what happened to me." Sam tried to ignore the way Dean sucked in a breath of air in surprise. He pushed through the sudden doubt springing up in his mind. "You know... we haven't even called him to tell him I was ok or anything yet."

"I know. I was waiting to let you decide what you wanted to do. It's your call." He turned his head as far towards Sam as he could. "You know how Dad is with the supernatural, Sam," he rumbled quietly.

Sam flushed slightly at the thought, unable to push away the ever-present fear that came from being around a human. And it would be even worse if his dad was around, too. Sam didn't want to think what it'd be like around more than one human, helpless next to them. At least he'd have Dean for support. "I know. It's not like I'm a human anymore, right? But... it's still Dad, and he deserves to know I'm alive. Even if I'm stuck like this. He went through a lot all those years ago because of me." Standing up, Sam slid down the sleeve of Dean's jacket. He walked casually over to the table, using Dean's forearm as a bridge. Once he was there, he hopped down to the surface. He glanced back up at Dean when he was safely across, standing fearlessly between his brother's thick arms on the table. Not a place he'd have been comfortable standing in a week ago. Now he knew he couldn't be safer, even though he could still feel the adrenaline pump into him the way he was so easily surrounded. "You should be the one to call him."

"Whatever you say, it's your call," Dean reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. "Did you want to say anything to him?" He asked curiously before opening the phone.

Sam shook his head quickly. He wouldn't know where to begin. The last time he'd talked to the man had been in another life.

With a small shrug, Dean dialed their Dad's number and placed the phone down on the table next to Sam, switching it into speaker mode so Sam could hear, or chime in if he decided to. After a few rings, the voicemail message started up.

_"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean. 866 907 3235. He can help."_

Sam couldn't help a slight flinch when he heard his Dad's voice for the first time in over a decade. The last thing he had ever expected not too long ago...

Dean hesitated when he noticed Sam's reaction, then started talking fast, leaning slightly over the phone, and by extension, Sam. "Dad? This is Dean. I need to talk to you. It's Sam. He's... Dad he's been alive all this time. It's... it's a long story, but you need to know. He's been cursed. By that witch we thought got him." Dean managed a small laugh at this, still finding it hard to believe himself. "Dad, he's been cursed so he's trapped at four inches tall. So... yeah. Call me. Us. Call us." Dean hit the **End Call **button on his phone. His eyes flicked up to Sam, who hadn't moved a muscle since the call started.

Sam glanced up at Dean, unable to hide his nervousness. He felt like one big bundle of nerves, standing so exposed, out in the open with nowhere to run. "Ah, so, what's the plan for today," he said, hoping to change the subject before Dean picked up on it. Having more than one human know about him... he was going to have to get used to the idea somehow. He still had enough trouble acting casual around just Dean. He couldn't imagine more.

Dean gave him a knowing smile, making Sam realize his brother had picked up on his worry anyway. Giant or not, Dean could read him better than anyone else, even after all the years they'd been separated. "Well, I was thinking we could head towards Dad's last known position. See if we can't pick up a new case on the way."

"Sounds good." Sam stretched. "When do we leave?"

Dean stood up and stretched out the same way as Sam, his arms soaring high above Sam's head. He closed the laptop and went over to his bag. "Soon as I grab our stuff."

Once he had everything thrown back in his bag, and Sam's little bed packed back in the box he had for it, he put his hand on the table next to Sam. Sam took the initiative and scrambled up the long arm, climbing back to his favorite shoulder perch. Dean arched an eyebrow down at Sam. "You hate me picking you up that much?"

"It's not that." Sam stated. Dean frowned down at him, clearly not believing a word. "It's not, I swear!" He folded his arms. "I just... feel more independent like this. And I need to get back in practice now that my wrist is better. Can't be slacking off."

"Whatever you say." Shaking his head, Dean headed for the door.

* * *

><p>Shortly after, Dean reached the car with his little brother hiding by his collar. Sam still refused to go in the pocket if he could avoid it. Not that Dean could blame him today. Breathing in the hot, stifling air, Dean practically gagged. "Feels like the middle of the desert," he complained to the air.<p>

"Wouldn't there be no humidity in the desert?" A tiny voice piped up from his shoulder. With no one around, Sam didn't have to worry about being overheard.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the clarification, poindexter."

Hurriedly, he tossed his duffel in the back of the Impala. He put the box with Sam's stuff in the back with more care, not wanting to knock about the tiny bed more than necessary. He didn't particularly want to go into a store to replace it. He would make quite the scene in the girly section of a toy store, shopping for dollhouse furniture. Sam would never let him hear the end of it.

Sam was grumbling by the time they got in the car and Dean turned it on. "Could you sweat anymore?" He whined, trying to distance himself from Dean's neck. Not so easy when you're sitting on someone's shoulder.

Dean scooped his squirming, bitching brother off his shoulder into a fist. "Like that's my fault," he muttered. He grabbed one of his clean flannel shirts from the back, bunching it up for Sam to sit on, and set his squirmy brother down. He pointed at Sam. "Stay still or you're going in the pocket, Mr... fussy pants."

Sam sniggered. "You gotta work on your nicknames. I think you're losing your touch there." He wasted no time drying himself off on the sleeve of the shirt he was on.

"Shaddup." He grimaced down at Sam. "I'm serious, though. You're too small for a seat belt. I don't want you to go flying, man. If it wasn't so hot, you'd still be on my shoulder."

"I'll be careful, _promise._" Sam rolled his eyes up at Dean. "What are you, my mother?"

Dean reached over with a smirk, mussing up Sam's long hair with a careful fingertip. Sam batted at his fingers angrily, glaring at Dean while he tried to fix his hair. Dean put the car in drive, gratefully leaving the baking hot parking lot behind.

* * *

><p>It was almost midnight before the Impala rolled into the parking lot of the best motel Dean could find to suit their needs. His parameters were pretty simple these days - fairly cheap, but hopefully without rats andor cockroaches. The last thing he needed was Sam getting attacked because he picked a bottom-feeder motel to save ten bucks. As long as his credit card scams stayed steady, he wasn't overly concerned about money. And there was always hustling a game of pool or poker at the local bar if things got too tight. He always kept a little back-up cash on hand if it came to that.

He glanced over at the shirt Sam was curled up in. His brother hadn't said a word in hours, falling dead asleep once the sun went down. Dean knew that Sam stayed up late most nights, reading over books and websites. He was determined to catch up on over a decade's worth of learning in a week, so he never went to bed early. Because of that, he almost always fell asleep when he was in Dean's pocket, or they were traveling in the Impala, since there was nothing he could do at those times. Dean didn't envy his position.

Carefully, Dean folded part of the shirt over Sam's miniscule sleeping form, covering him enough that no one would be able to glance into the window and see a living action figure sleeping on the seat.

He went to the front desk of the motel and secured a room for them as fast as he could, hating the way he'd left Sam alone out there. If anyone found him, he was completely defenseless, too small to be able to stop people from grabbing or crushing him. Dean knew that all too well, considering the first thing he'd done when he'd discovered Sam hiding from him in his room for the first time was grab him. Sam hadn't been able to stop Dean at all, his best struggles meaningless in a hand bigger than his entire body. Dean remembered how strange it all had felt that first time... little bones more delicate than a birds pushing at his hand, unable to budge so much as a finger despite his panicked, desperate struggles. He hadn't even known it was Sam at the time. He shuddered at the thought of how close he'd been to hurting his little brother... how easy it would be to do anything to him at all... He still felt guilty over that reaction, no matter how many times Sam said _its fine, don't worry, you didn't hurt me..._

_I could have. And that's all that matters._

It was all that would ever matter.

Once he had the key to their new room, he got back in the Impala, pulling it around the back of the motel. He dug out their supplies from the back seat and gently gathered the shirt Sam was sleeping in, trying not to wake his much-smaller brother. It was still stifling hot outside, smacking of a heat wave in the southwest US. _I am so cranking the AC tonight._

Even the Impala's air hadn't been able to completely overpower the heat from outside. One of the very few downfalls of the car, sitting in the blazing hot sun, soaking up those rays with that gleaming black paint job. As much as he adored his baby, he'd wished for some reflectors to get the sun off her.

Once he was in the room, he settled the shirt with Sam on it in the second bed. He didn't want to wake up Sam, so he'd just leave him there for the night. He still set up the little bed under the nightstand, in case his brother woke up and wasn't able to fall asleep out in the open. He tossed his duffel bag into the corner, jacket on the floor, and collapsed face down on the unoccupied bed, unconscious before he hit the mattress.

* * *

><p>The world resolved around her at last, blue swiftly fading to black as her journey through the portal ended. Her spell snapped off, broken when the portal was severed. She tumbled head over heels, suddenly finding herself free of Lityerses' confining fist without warning.<p>

He was gone. Completely.

She gasped as she slammed into the ground, luckily much closer and softer than it had been before her journey, tumbling head over heels. She groaned when she finally came to a stop, shivering in the chill air. Her wing still throbbed, each shiver wracking her entire body with pain. Hesitant, she peeked over her shoulder at it. The second she saw the extent of the damage, she knew she'd never be able to cast a spell until it healed. Her balance was broken.

Hauling herself to a stand, she took stock of her location, knowing she needed to find cover from the cold or risk freezing.

_Nixie... you can do it... just find some cover, somewhere to hide till the morning... heal... maybe this nightmare will then be over..._

Keeping up the chant in her mind, she tried to see where she was. But the darkness was blacker than the black of night. She could only make out faint shapes in the dark... most towering over her head, colossal, dark and intimidating. _Where am I...? I was in the forest before the portal, now I look to be surrounded by cliffs... what world did he choose to enter? Where have we been brought to? And where has he gone..._ Spotting a smaller shape ahead of her, she jogged towards it, trying to keep her broken wing as still as possible. She needed to find a freshwater spring as soon as possible for her wing, otherwise it was only going to get worse. But no matter how far she stretched her broken senses out, there was no fresh water to be found. She had no materials with her to splint her wing, no way to keep it steady for the healing to begin. And without it, she was worse than useless. She needed that water.

She growled at the thought, unsatisfied with this turn of events. _If only he had not grabbed the wing, I would be fine._

She reached the dark shape at last, coming to a halt. Slowly, she circled it, unsure what it was. It _looked_ like a small hill, but with such a strange texture to it, it was doubtful that was what it really was. Another huge shiver struck her, making her cry out in pain when her broken wing shook with the rest of her body. No time to figure out what it was... she needed to get under cover.

Finding a small alcove, she burrowed in, discovering a small cave that went far enough back to get out of the cold. It was warm, and insulated, and soft. Now that she was safe, she felt the pain and fear of her last few hours catch up to her, taking over her world with the quiet calm of unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

And we are moving on. Little Sammy is a lot more comfortable around Dean, but you can tell he's just not used to it yet. He's trying so hard, though.

And a little more with our mystery girl ;)

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They make my day!


	3. Discovery

Sam found himself waking up to the sound of the TV, and water running in the background. With a slight moan, he sat up. _What the hell did I sleep on last night? _His back was killing him from the uncomfortable position he'd slept in. Blinking his eyes open hesitantly in the brightly lit motel room, he gazed about, confused. He was still sitting on the shirt he'd been on in the car, but now instead of the bench seat, he was on a huge bed.

For a few seconds he simply sat there, taking in his surroundings with amazement. A week ago being on a human bed like this, especially with a human around, had been one of the most dangerous things he could have done. But instead, he was safe and sound. How things change... He found himself wondering how he'd got there.

_Must have got here while I was asleep... why didn't Dean wake me when we reached the motel?_ He stretched out his arms slowly, pushing away the fog of sleep from his mind. Hopefully Dean was almost done in the shower, he was starving. He settled back into the shirt, still too groggy to climb down and go to his actual bed.

He didn't have long to wait. Dean came out of the shower, still brushing his teeth, less than ten minutes later. "Yuu wunnaf go touf brufuss wif me?"

Sam sniggered. "Did you come up with that language all on your own?"

Dean glared at him past the toothbrush, sending a brief chill of intimidation up Sam's spine, then leaned over the sink to finish up. Once he was done and patting himself dry with a towel, he said, "I _said,_ you wanna go to breakfast with me, smartass?"

"Y-yeah, sure Dean." Sam couldn't keep the nervousness out of his voice. It was one thing being here with his brother, but he still shivered whenever he was sitting in Dean's pocket in a store. Listening to giants talk over his head, with no idea he was even there. Knowing that someone else could bump into his brother at any second. Something like that could lead to Sam's discovery, or he could end up crushed with no way to help himself. And he was certain it would be worse in a diner. Surrounded by other giants, there wouldn't be anywhere safe for him at all. But he _had_ promised Dean he'd go. He didn't want to let his brother down like that. Especially over something so dumb.

Dean came over to the bed once he had his shirt on and was all dressed. He knelt down by the edge Sam was near. "You know, you don't have to come if it makes you uncomfortable. I won't get upset," he said.

Sam met his eyes, knowing Dean hated seeing him afraid. "It's ok, Dean. I _want_ to go. It's just a lot to take in, you know?" He waved his hand at his brother. "I'm still not completely used to _you_ yet, never mind anyone else. But I can't get used to it if I don't leave the motel, right? And if I want to hunt, I'm gonna have to learn to not be so jumpy."

Dean smiled at the reassurance. He got up and grabbed his jacket from the ground, putting it on. This early in the morning, the air was still cool enough for him to wear it, luckily. It was the only way he could keep Sam hidden in the diner. His shirt was thin enough that if Sam was in a squirmy mood, you could see him moving around in the pocket. He didn't want to have to explain why he had a miniaturized person hanging around in his pocket anytime soon.

He held his hand out to Sam. Sam slipped on, bracing against a finger while the bed dropped away from him. Dean held him up next to the pocket so Sam could climb in while he grabbed his keys from the nightstand.

Sam grabbed the edge of the pocket, opening it far enough for him to slip in. He peered in cautiously before getting in, remembering the time he'd crash-landed on some forgotten change the other day. He still had bruises on his arm from the rough landing. In the end, he'd tried to throw the change at Dean for the indignity, which hadn't gone well, considering how much higher above him Dean was. He'd missed his shot and Dean had retaliated by buttoning up the pocket for a while, leaving Sam stuck ruminating alone in the dark with the rest of the change until he relented and took pity on his little brother. Being trapped in a pocket with no way out was embarrassing.

His eyes widened and he gasped when he saw what was already in Dean's pocket this time. And he was pretty sure it wasn't something Dean had forgot about. "Dean!"

"What?" Dean glanced down at his pocket, impatience flashing briefly over his face. At least until he saw the shock on Sam's face. "What happened?" He demanded.

Sam just pointed at the pocket.

Curious, Dean pulled it open with his free hand so he could see inside. His eyes widened and he gave Sam a shocked look. "Is that... a _girl_ in my pocket?"

"Y-yeah, I think so." Sam went to reach for the pocket again, but Dean pulled the hand he was in swiftly away from the shirt. "Hey!" Sam yelled up at him, teetering to catch his balance from the unexpected movement. The fingers around him curled up to help steady him against the movement. "What's the big idea?"

Dean stared at him incredulously. "There's some unknown creature in my pocket and you want to drop in and say 'hi?' I don't think so!"

"Dean, it's a girl. And she's hurt. She needs help." He locked eyes with Dean, willing Dean to see things his way.

Naturally, it didn't work. "Sam, we don't know anything about... whatever the hell she is. And I'm not gonna risk you like that."

"Risk me? Dean, I can take care of myself. And it's not like you're going anywhere! It's just your pocket - I'll be fine!" Sam pulled himself to his full four inch height in his brother's palm, pushing away any insecurities he had about his size and standing as tall as he could manage. Without confidence, he knew he'd never be able to convince Dean. "You _have_ to trust me!"

A conflicted look washed over Dean's face. Sam knew he was torn in two directions - trust Sam, protect Sam. Both equally important in Dean's eyes. The scales were tipping in his favor slowly from what he could see. He knew he'd won before Dean let out a heartfelt sigh, Sam's hair disheveled in the hot breeze.

Dean lowered his hand back to the pocket, holding it open with his other hand for Sam. Sam carefully climbed down into the dark pocket, keeping hold of one of Dean's fingers so he didn't fall on the girl. She looked bruised and battered... and he could swear he saw a... wing? laying under her. He gently brushed a hand over her cheek. She was still breathing, but there was no other outward response to him. He called up to Dean, asking for help pulling her out. There was no way Sam would be able to get her out of the pocket alone. It was too steep to haul himself up with a passenger.

He heard Dean grumble above him, shifting his hands around so he was holding the pocket open with the hand Sam was anchored to, and slipped his freed fingers down into the pocket. Sam held his breath, worried. She seemed so small and _frail_ next to Dean's fingers he hoped his brother didn't accidentally injure her more trying to get her out. But he knew from experience how gentle Dean could be when he wanted to, despite being such a dangerous hunter. And as far as he could tell, she wasn't much smaller than Sam himself. As carefully as cradling an egg, Dean scooped his hand under her, lifting her up out of the pocket. Sam jumped on the hand supporting her as soon as it was level with him.

He knelt down next to her, ignoring Dean as the hand was raised higher in the air to eye level. He'd gotten used to that, at least. Dean always seemed to be staring down at Sam with those piercing, intense eyes, as though he thought that if he glanced away for a second Sam would fade away again, leaving Dean alone in the world. As though he was afraid of losing Sam again so soon.

He kept his attention on the girl next to him. She was definitely hurt... bruises covered her arms completely, and he could see some of them stretching down to her back. Her clothes were skimpy, leaving much of her back and legs exposed. A strange bluish tinge tinted most of her body, all the way to the layers in her hair, which seemed more feathery than hair. And from her back... Sam could have sworn that what came from her back were the wings of a dragonfly, though much more elegant, broader and bluer.

He rocked back on his heels, glancing up at Dean. "Dude, I think she's a _fairy."_

* * *

><p>Dean watched as Sam lifted the tiny girl from his hand, gently laying her on a washcloth Dean had grabbed from the bathroom. He still wasn't about to leave his little brother alone with her, but as long as she was knocked out like this Sam shouldn't be in any danger.<p>

From what they could tell, she had been through a lot. One of her wings was almost snapped clean through, barely holding on in one piece at this point. Bruises marred very fair, pale blue skin over most of her body. She was wearing bright green clothes, made of no material Dean had ever seen in his life. The clothes were clearly made for hot or tropical weather, as skimpy as they were. The pants extended a little past her knees, and the shirt was barely a midriff, with most of her back exposed, giving the wings freedom of movement.

Sam carefully spread her broken wing out behind her, stretching it as far out as her could without injuring it more. "Do we have anything I can use to get some of this blood off her?" He called up to Dean.

"Uh, yeah. We should." Dean glanced around the room until his eyes fell on his small med-kit. "Just gimme a sec," he said.

While Dean was shuffling around the room getting supplies, Sam brushed the feathery blue hair away from the girls face. Sleeping like this, she seemed so young and innocent, almost childlike. He found himself hoping she would wake up soon. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. Where she was from, what she was, how she'd ended up in his brother's pocket... the list went on and on.

A dark shadow fell over the both of them when Dean returned with the medical supplies. Sam glanced up briefly, gratefully accepting a warm, damp cloth from an extended hand. It had been cut down to a useful size for Sam, about as large as a beach towel to him. He carefully cleaned the... blood? from the injured wing. It was a thick, and almost clear liquid that reflected blue in the soft motel room light. Like nothing he'd ever seen before, or read about.

While Sam gently wiped down the wing, Dean sat down behind them at the table. A huge hand hovered next to Sam, ready, he knew, to lend assistance if it was needed. Or to protect him if things went south. Nothing he said would ever convince Dean he didn't need protecting. Leaving the wing alone for the moment, he gently checked for any broken bones over the rest of her. He wanted to save the wing for last, since he wasn't completely sure how to splint such a delicate limb.

As Sam was leaning over her to check her other arm, her eyes snapped open without warning. He froze in place, disconcerted by her ice blue glare. There were no pupils, reminding him of a blind man's eyes. They were clear blue pools that felt like she could stare into his soul with. And she could clearly see out of them without a problem, as they tracked his movement effortlessly when he sat back, afraid of scaring her more.

She sat up a little, groaning with pain. A hand was held to her head. "You. Who are you." She said, more statement than question.

"My name's Sam," he started. He was about to go on and introduce Dean when his brother shifted behind him, fabric loudly crinkling as he leaned in to get a better view of the girl now that she was awake.

This innocent movement from Dean got a violent response. The second the girl noticed him, she hissed, wings rigid with anger. From her position on the washcloth, she was midair in an instant, flipping agilely away from Dean.

Everything went black for Sam at the same instant, and he found himself balled into a tiny, stuffy area while the ground fell rapidly away from his feet.

"Ack! Dean! Let me out!" Sam pounded against the hands confining him, hating how he was trapped so easily. The fingers walled around him didn't even budge a millimeter from his efforts. He was lucky Dean was on his side, but sometimes his brother's overprotectiveness drove him nuts.

"Like hell," his brother's deep voice growled from outside his protective prison. "She tried to attack you."

Sam groaned, trying to shift to a more comfortable position in his cramped accommodations. At least he knew the girl was fine for the moment, considering Dean didn't have any hands to spare. Sweat beaded on the huge palms surrounding him. Sam realized exactly how nervous Dean was at the moment, making it even more uncomfortable for Sam in the humid enclosure. He shoved vigorously against the thick skin surrounding him with his back and legs, hoping to find a weak spot. Nothing. He might as well have been trying to break through solid rock for all the good he was doing. He was getting nowhere like this.

Better try a different tactic.

He decided to try and reason with his brother. "Dean, she wasn't attacking _me_. She was fine until she saw _you._ Now let me out so I can talk to her before she gets hurt more!" He gave a vigorous kick against the fingers walled around him again, aggravated at his own sudden helplessness. "I know what I'm doing!"

Light slowly returned as Dean cautiously unfurled his hands, giving Sam space to get up. He was relieved to see the small girl was fine, standing in a defensive posture past the washcloth, blue eyes wide as she stared up at the both of them. Her wings were trembling as she stood there, clearly in pain. Sam shot a pointed glare up at his brother. "Dean, _back off_ for a few minutes. Let me try talking to her."

He suddenly wondered if he'd finally pushed Dean too far. He'd never seen Dean staring at _him_ so angrily before, and here he was, stranded on Dean's palm, defenseless and with no way down. A chill of intimidation ran up his back with the realization of how vulnerable he was there. When someone is _literally_ holding your life in their hands, you tend to rethink yelling at them. His brother glared down at him for a long moment before lowering the hand close enough to the table for Sam to get off. Sam slid down to the table, relaxing a hair when he heard Dean's chair scrape back against the floor behind him.

"You sure as hell _better_ know what you're doing." Dean muttered down at him, shifting so he wasn't looming over the girl anymore. Dean would never to leave Sam alone at the table while there was even a possibility of danger to his little brother, but at least he was willing to give Sam this chance. Barely.

Sam approached the girl slowly, holding out his hands to show he was unarmed. She never took her vivid blue eyes off Dean. "Are you ok?" He asked, still softly.

"No." She blinked, changing the direction of her gaze to Sam. He stood straighter, caught in her eyes for a moment. They were the deep blue of a lake, easy to get lost in. She cocked her head at Sam. "Where am I?" This time it was a clear question, asked with all the authority of a queen.

Slightly thrown off by her demeanor, Sam couldn't help but stutter out, "Yo-you're in our motel room. In Colorado." He'd only known a few girls growing up, and she was unlike any of them. He stumbled around in his head, trying to find something to say to her.

Reaching the washcloth he stepped around slowly. She backed away from him uncertainly, sudden fear reflecting in her eyes when they flicked between him and Dean again.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"It's ok." Sam said to her cajolingly. "I just want to help."

"Not you. Him." The vivid blue eyes darted up to Dean and back to Sam. The fear when she glanced at Dean was practically tangible. "Wing..."

Sam thought about what she'd said for a moment, reaching the only conclusion that made sense. "Did... did a human break your wing?"

"Yes..." her wings drooped down, one arm rubbing against the other. "He _was_ human." Rubbing over the bruises Sam realized must have been caused when someone grabbed her roughly. The size of them would match a human's fingers perfectly.

"What happened? How did you get hurt? Did..." he nervously glanced up at Dean, knowing what his brother would say if she turned out to be dangerous. "...Did you attack them?"

She tilted her head, confusion in her eyes for a moment. "No..." she said slowly. "I was chasing him. To stop him. He stole... a dangerous heirloom from us." She shuddered, pain crossing over her face as her hands went to the bruises on her arms. "An amulet we inherited from our father."

He approached her again, this time carefully taking her arm away from the bruises. "It's ok," he said softly. She wasn't going to make it much longer without some help for her injuries, from the look of things. "We're not gonna hurt you. I promise. I'm Sam," he placed both hands over his heart. "And this is my brother Dean," he gestured up at Dean. "We want to help. You can tell us everything later, once we get you fixed up." He glanced up at Dean, willing him to do something non-threatening for a change.

Luckily for Sam, Dean caught his meaning quick. "Hi," he said, giving an uncertain wave to the girl. He smiled down at her, trying his best not to be intimidating for once.

Sam turned back to the blue girl again. "What's your name?" He asked, carefully sizing up her reaction to Dean. She was slightly more relaxed than before. An improvement. Now if only Dean would do the same.

"I... I am Nixie." She faltered, slipping down to one knee. Sam caught one of her arms before she fell down all the way.

Out of nowhere, Dean's hand was suddenly there, carefully offering support. Sam grinned his thanks up at his brother, surprised Dean would be willing to help considering his usual opinion of the supernatural. That much hadn't changed since they were kids.

Dean had an intense look of concentration on his face the entire time, trying to support her without brushing against her wings. There was no way to know if his touch would make them worse.

Nixie didn't seem to appreciate the support though, trying her best to push away from the hand. She stumbled the moment she was free, almost falling flat on her face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Sam said. "Nixie, we need to get you fixed up. Dean just wants to help, I promise. He won't hurt you. He's very gentle for a human."

She caught him in an icy stare. "What about earlier then?"

"What do you mean, earlier?"

"He grabbed _you."_

"Oh!" Sam said, surprised. He hadn't thought about how that must have looked to her. "He didn't hurt me... he was trying to protect me. He thought _you_ might hurt me."

If he was reading her facial expressions right, this must be one of shock. She blinked her eyes slowly. "Hurt you. I would never hurt another Fae."

Somehow, Sam knew Dean was trying to hold in a laugh at that. "Nixie... I'm not a Fae. I'm a human, like Dean."

She simply blinked. "No."

Sam glowered at Dean when he heard his brother snort with laughter. _So not helping, Dean._ "I'm not supposed to be this size. I was cursed."

"Cursed." She pulled herself up all the way, slightly stumbling. This time when Dean gently wrapped his fingers around her, helping her stand, she didn't resist. She reached out to Sam, pressing her hand against his chest. He held still, curious as to what she was doing. A minute passed before she opened her eyes again, wide as they could go. The empty blue pools chilled him for a moment before she focused back on him. "You _are_ a human." Her voice was a bare whisper compared to earlier. "How? I know of no spell or magic that can do this to a person."

Whatever she did to find this out, she slipped and her legs collapsed completely, no strength left in then. He eyes rolled up into her head. Sam grabbed for her, but was too late to help. Luckily, Dean was still close enough to slip his fingers beneath her falling form before she hit the table. He gently lifted her up, placing her on the washcloth again. "We can save the stories for later, once we get you better," Sam whispered as Dean lowered her down. She moaned as Sam leaned over her again, gently blotting the damp cloth against her face, wiping away a sheen of sweat. "What can I do to help you?" He asked, unsure how to give first aid to a fairy.

Her head rolled on her shoulders, trying to focus. "W-water," she mumbled. Her eyes rolled up into her head.

Sam glanced up. "Dean?"

"Yeah, got it." His brother jumped up, quickly grabbing a bottle of water and pouring out a capful.

Once he handed it off, Sam held it up to her lips, letting her drink a mouthful. She blinked a few times, her vacant eyes refocusing. She accepted the water from him, but instead of drinking more, gathered a handful in a cup. And tossed it over her wing, to the surprise of the brothers. More handfuls followed, covering the glistening wing in droplets. She gave a sigh, slumping down into the cloth. "Much better," she moaned. "If you can... if you have a way to set it, it will help."

Sam turned to Dean. "Do you have anything small enough to set her wing with?"

Dean frowned in concentration for a few seconds, then smiled. "I might have just the thing." He stood up and glanced back down at Sam, holding out a finger. "Don't go anywhere," he ordered.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Where do you think we're going?" He turned away from his brother and felt a spike of worry when he saw Nixie's eyes roll back into her head again, wings drooping as she collapsed backwards. "Nixie!" He dove to catch her, jumping in surprise when he heard the motel room door slam shut behind him. Dean had actually left him alone with the fairy.

As careful as he could, Sam repositioned her on the washcloth. Her shuddering died down as she slumped into the cloth, out cold.

It was only a few moments until Dean returned with more supplies from the Impala. Sam had managed to straighten out the wing from where it was crumpled against the ground. His brother carefully placed some small sticks, gauze and floss near Sam.

"Sorry, it's not perfect, but it's the best I have your size." Dean said.

"I should be able to make it work," Sam said with what he hoped wasn't false confidence. "Can you hold her wing straight?"

He oversaw as his brother's fingers gently straightened the appendage, very carefully smoothing it out. Dean kept the wing braced like that while Sam wrapped it up, drawing on the limited first aid his adopted father taught him. Self-reliance was one of the best things to have when you're smaller than everyone else in the world. Basic first aid had been one of the most important lessons to learn. On the other hand, none of them had expected to ever have to splint a fairy's wing. Sam's small hands and fingers helped a lot. Dean wouldn't have been able to bind it half as well on his own.

Sam finished at last, sitting back gratefully to admire his handiwork. "Ok, it might not be the prettiest, but this should keep it immobile while the wing heals," he said, mostly to himself. Dean gently released the wing. The girl slumped back into the cloth once the wing slipped down next to her. She hadn't budged since they started.

Sam sat down on the table next to the girl and glanced up at Dean. "Now what?" He asked.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, Dean was carefully holding Sam out in front of him. They were standing by the small kitchenette in the room, far enough away to not disturb the fairy while they talked, but still close enough to keep a close eye on her.<p>

"Sam, you know I don't like this," Dean whispered down harshly at his little brother. "She can't be trusted."

Sam twitched slightly in response to the harsh tone, making Dean feel guilty all over again. And he'd seen the fear in Sam's eyes earlier, when Dean had been trying to protect him from the fairy. It wasn't like he was TRYING to scare or intimidate Sam all the time. He just wasn't used to talking to someone so much smaller and frailer than him, or someone whose entire body could be held in his freakin' _hand,_ for that matter. Despite spending almost a week with Sam like this, he still felt like he'd hurt his brother if he moved the wrong way.

He'd have to get used to it though. For Sammy's sake.

Sam visibly gathered himself after a moment, glaring stubbornly up at Dean. "Dean, we're not gonna just kill her until she does something, or we _know_ she did something to deserve it! I mean, just look at me!" Sam threw out his arms. "If that was the way you really thought, you should have killed me the moment you first found me in your motel room. After all, I'm not human either, and you didn't know I was your brother until later! _After _you caught me. You had plenty of time where you could have done me in. Instead, here we are."

Dean felt his cheek twitch at that. Sam was right. There was a good chance that if it had been anyone but Sam, he would have done exactly that without even thinking about it. Had even come close to it with his initial reaction when he discovered the tiny guy creeping around in the room. While their Dad was raising them on the road, motel to motel, he had done his best to instill in them a pure hatred of the supernatural that matched his own. Dean had taken to it easily, with the memories of that fatal night all those years ago branded into his mind. Watching his house go up in flames, losing his mother... _Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Now Dean, GO!_ Dean could feel the cold suspicion in him, even with the fact that the tiny fairy had done nothing to deserve it so far.

Maybe he needed Sam... as much as Sam needed him.

Sam's tone softened, as though he knew what was running though Dean's mind. "Dean, I'm not saying we should trust her with our lives here. I just think she deserves the benefit of doubt." Sam paused to peer in the direction of the table, small boots shifting over the surface of Dean's palm. "And... there's something about the way she talked to me... I don't think she was lying. There was... an innocence in her eyes. Like she's naive about the way the world works." He turned his gaze up to Dean. "I don't think she would know what a lie IS."

Dean sighed. He knew Sam would never forgive him if he did anything without checking with Sam. If it came to it, he'd make the call... but until then he needed to give Sam his trust. After all, if he couldn't trust his own brother, who could he trust? And, even with something as simple as standing here with Dean, Sam was trusting Dean with his life - willingly standing in the hands of a giant he'd been with less than a week, suspended far above the ground, trusting in Dean to keep him safe... there was no doubt in Dean's mind that if Sam fell from this height, he'd get badly hurt, if it didn't kill him. Dean wanted... no, he NEEDED to give Sam the same trust Sam showed him every day. Still... "Sam, I hate this. I hate not knowing, and I especially hate you putting yourself at risk here."

Sam rolled his eyes up at Dean. "Dean, I'll be _fine._ I can handle myself. I survived all those years fine without you, you know."

Dean jabbed a big finger at Sam, poking him gently in the side. Sam squirmed away, trying to push away a finger that was almost bigger than his entire body while Dean kept talking. "Yeah, but you weren't exactly putting yourself purposely at risk all those years, were you?"

Giving up on moving the finger away, Sam crossed his arms bitchily. "Just trust me on this, alright?"

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Of course I trust you. It's _her_ I have an issue with. If anything happens, you have to be prepared to do what you have to. That's what it means to be a hunter. Alright?"

Sam stared down at his boots. "Yeah, fine. I got it."

Dean held the hand up directly in front of his face, making Sam shift uncomfortably under his heavy gaze. "You're sure? I just want us to be clear..."

"Yes, I _said_ I got it, Dean!" Sam snapped, stomping a boot down on the palm. He whirled around so he was facing away from Dean, arms crossed angrily across his chest. It was the closest he could get to storming off while stranded in the air like this.

"Alright Tinkerbell, chill." Dean's mouth twitched up, remembering how Nixie had confused Sam with another fairy. But despite Dean's attempt at lightening the mood, Sam didn't respond. Dean rolled his eyes again, knowing the conversation was over. No use bullying Sam into talking more. And it _would_ be bullying at this point. He pulled the hand close to his body, not wanting to knock Sam off when he moved. He dropped his tiny, pissy brother off at the table and went over to the bed, planning on watching something to get his mind off the argument. Now if only he'd remembered to pick up some beer...

* * *

><p>Hope everyone had a good holiday with their families! Still on track with my weekly Friday posting ;)<p>

Oh Dean, why do you keep scaring Sam? You know he's not used to you yet!

Poor girl's been through a lot. Now she has to deal with a paranoid hunter. Good thing Sammy's there to save the day!

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They make my day!


	4. Legends

Nixie found herself waking up not long after. She groaned, pushing off the coarse fabric bunched around her body. It was tight, and confining. She yearned for the open air and the spacious forest she lived in. But she wouldn't be able to return for some time yet. Not until she found the amulet and returned it to its rightful home.

She blinked open her eyes, gazing around at her surroundings cautiously. The human-who-was-cursed was sitting not far from her with his back turned, while the brother-of-the-cursed was sitting on a bed across the room. They were both watching a strange flashing-with-pictures-box that was facing the beds, with an odd intensity. Trying to avoid catching the attention of the brother-of-the-cursed, Nixie put both feet on the ground, standing up so she could see how bad the damage to her wing was.

The human-who-was-cursed turned at the noise she made while standing. She froze when he laid eyes on her again. She was not accustomed to being near humans, cursed or not.

He smiled. "Nixie, how are you feeling? We were worried."

Uncertain of how to respond, she chose to answer as simply as possible. "Fine. I feel fine." It was not a question her sisters had ever thought to ask. Their bond was enough that they knew when one was hurt or in trouble and so never had need of asking.

"Good." He smiled at her. "We were worried when you fainted. Didn't want you getting worse when we don't really know how to help you."

She let out a small puff of air. "I have no injuries that threaten life."

He frowned briefly, appearing concerned. "Nixie, how did you get in Dean's jacket, anyway? You weren't there yesterday. We would have noticed you."

She closed her eyes, concentrating on her memories of that-which-had-passed. "I came here through a portal. It was not supposed to open here, and I was separated from the other that traveled with me." She stared down at her hands for a moment. "When I arrived here, it was so cold... I had to find shelter. The... pocket..." She gestured up at what he had named a 'pocket,' sitting on the brother-of-the-cursed's chest currently. She shied away from the thought that'd she'd been in there while he was wearing it... so intimately close to a human without even realizing it. She shivered. "The pocket was the only warm place I could find. I did not want to freeze, and with my wing injured like this, I had no other way to stay warm."

The human-who-was-cursed leaned towards her, frowning briefly. This close, she could make out the slight traces of the curse he was afflicted with, its mark etched with a dark webbing on his soul. "Your wing... we put a splint on it. It's the first time we've ever helped a fairy, so I hope we did alright."

"Fairy." Nixie stated. The brother-of-the-cursed turned towards the table the two of them were standing on, eyebrows arching when he saw that she was awake. She tried her best to push him out of her mind, but it was difficult. She had only ever interacted with one other being that size, and those meetings had never gone well, in all the millennia she had known him. "I am not a fairy."

The human-who-was-cursed squinted at her in confusion. "If you're not a fairy, what are you?"

"I am a sprite. A water sprite." She held up her hand in an attempt to control the water sitting not far from her in the bottlecap, wishing to demonstrate. Nothing happened, of course. She slumped down slightly, exhausted at the effort. "Or, I will be when my wing heals."

"Why when your wing heals?"

"The magic. It flows through the wings. Wings broke, no magic." She gently traced a finger over one of her four wings. "Magic comes from the ichor inside, and balance within. Even with one wing broke, balance is gone."

Human-who-was-cursed's eyes widened at this. "Is that the clear liquid that came out of your wings?"

"Yes. It will replenish. And wings will heal, in time." She stared down at the table sadly. "But I need my wings _now._ He-who-broke-them is near, and he will hurt others as well."

"How do you know?"

"It is who he is. Ever since being banished from this world he had plotted to return. He wants only two things now, to hurt those-who-cannot-defend, and the gold of our father, both of which he believes is his by right."

His eyebrows scrunched together. "Maybe you should start at the beginning."

And so she did.

"A long time ago, so long that my sisters and I have only the vaguest memories, lived a man. This man, he ruled over the ever-beautiful Lydia. He had a daughter, Zoë and a son, Lityerses. He himself was called King Midas."

Human-who-was-cursed blinked, glancing up at brother-of-the-cursed, who had moved over to the table while she was talking and was now sitting only a few feet away from her. "You hear that, Dean?"

"Yeah, definitely." Brother-of-the-cursed - Dean - glanced down at her. "We talkin' the King Midas who could turn anything to gold King Midas?"

"Yes." She was less disconcerted by the human's size now. He didn't glare at her the way Lityerses did. And he didn't give off the same dark aura. The most she could feel from him was cold suspicion and worry for the other human, neither unexpected in this situation. All other emotions were suppressed, an icy determination keeping them at bay. He had such a strong hold on his emotions, she was surprised the worry bled through at all. It must be almost overpowering, to show through such rigid control. Exposure to emotions such as these was a blessing after years of exposure to Lityerses' thoughts... always of maiming, death, fear, loathing. Hatred. Contempt for all that live. A constant bathing in the dark emotions of mankind. She had hated being around him while he bled such dark emotions. There were many times she thought he did it purposely, but he did not know she and her sisters could touch emotions, so there would have been no reason for that. It was just who he was.

With any luck, this human - _Dean, not human,_ she repeated silently to herself - would be able to help her. Especially since her magic was now gone, and she would be vulnerable in a way she and her sisters never had been before. "King Midas loved all that was beautiful. His beautiful daughter, the luscious roses that grew outside in his courtyard (he cultivated each and every rose himself, not trusting any gardener with such delicate beauty). But his great failing, was that he also craved the beauty of gold. He felt there was no other beauty in the world that was so pure, so clean. He wanted it in everything."

Human-who-was-cursed glanced up at that. She carefully repeated his name in her mind - _Sam _- not wanting to accidentally offend by not remembering his name. She needed their help. His emotions were far softer, more... innocent than his brother's. In him there was no rigid, unbending control. She could feel an eagerness to help, a desire to prove himself, worry for her... so many, and all overlapping. And at the very edge of his being... fear. A constant, gnawing fear. She frowned at this, for it didn't fit in with what she'd seen of them. The trust they'd shown each other in their interactions. A trust she shared with her sisters, and her sisters alone. Remembering herself, she focused back on the story, carefully blocking out the impressions she was getting from the humans. They would only serve as distractions right now.

"There came a time when King Midas found the old Satyr Silenus wandering. He was lost, and drunk. Recognizing Silenus, Midas treated him for ten days and ten nights, offering him hospitality very generously. On the eleventh day, he returned Silenus to Dionysus and was rewarded. He was told that whatever he asked, they would grant." A careful shift in position to move her injured wing to the side interrupted her telling for a moment. "He asked for the power to turn everything he touched into gold."

Here she paused to drink some more of the water. It was slowly returning her strength to her, thankfully. But in order to truly heal, she would need the fresh water as it raised from the earth in a spring. That would heal her wing and her body, if she was able to find such a spring here.

"At first he was overjoyed, as all know. He bragged, he celebrated, he enjoyed. But then he had his servants lay out a feast, in celebration of his gift. He found that no food could pass his mouth without turning to gold. Even when he was fed by a servant, the food turned to gold. Even his water turned to gold ice when he drank. Returning to his castle, he went to tend his roses and found himself unable to do even this, as his beautiful soft roses, so full of color and life turned cold and dead in his hands. His daughter, Zoë found him in the gardens, distraught. She wanted to cheer him up and went to wipe the tears from his eyes. Naturally, this did not happen. Before he could stop her, she turned to gold as well. A small, sad statue. Midas sobbed, knowing it was his fault he had lost his daughter. His greed, his lust for gold that took her from him."

She sat back, glancing up at both of the humans, small and large. They both were entranced by her story, faces rapt as they leaned in. Sam and Dean, she repeated to herself again. She did enjoy the sound of their names, so different from the names of her and her sisters. "Here, he prayed for deliverance. He sobbed over his daughters frozen form, begging Dionysus to save him from what he now knew was his 'curse.' She took pity on him, this man who had helped Silenus, and told him to wash in the river Pactolus. And for him to take his daughter and bathe her in the waters there. This removed his curse, and returned his daughter to flesh."

"But this is not the end of our story. The power given to him... The golden touch, as it was named was not destroyed. Dionysus placed it in an amulet, and gave it to my sisters and I for safekeeping. We were born of the tears Midas cried for his daughter, despair become hope. And so, even though Midas is our true father, we are called the Daughters of Zoë, for it was her loss that gave us life. Now, as for the amulet, for human to hold, either in hand or around neck would be given the power of Midas. Because of how dangerous this was, we were to keep the amulet in our world, a realm apart from any other, safe from misuse. The realm Aeternum."

She closed her eyes.

"But then we have Lityerses. He was not content to be the good son, and rule a kingdom when his father left this world. He wanted gold, and riches. But no work. He thought his father was a fool to let the amulet go the way he did. He did not understand Midas's love of his daughter, his care for the roses he brought from seed to bloom. He cared for battle, and gold, and the taking-of-women-with-force. He searched tirelessly for years, and found a way to our realm." She met first Sam's eyes, then Dean's, unafraid. "Our realm... to cross into it makes you not-human. You become more than you were. Or less. He lost the ability to age when he stepped over the border. He may have lost other ties-to-what-was as well. Sensing this, the goddess Dionysus closed the portal behind him, banishing him to our realm for eternity. Ever since then, he has sought out both the amulet and the portal. And now, he has found both."

Sam was the first to regain speech, licking his lips to moisten them. "But... what does he plan?"

She shrugged. "Gold, I imagine. And death. He had always been oddly preoccupied with both. I hear before he crossed into our realm he was called the _Reaper of Men,_ he sent so many souls to the land beyond before their time. I doubt time has changed that."

Dean leaned down over them both. She froze, still fearful of his size. Her good wing twitched with her nervousness. But his eyes shone with kindness, not anger. Surprisingly, his emotions reflected the same. The suspicion had softened at some point during her story. "How can we stop him?" He asked.

"_I _can stop him." She glanced over her shoulder at her injured wing. "Or, I _could _stop him, if my wing heals. My sisters and I are gifted with the power of Pactolus, to return any that have been turned to gold back, and we will not turn to gold if we are touched. It is our birthright." She met Dean's eyes evenly. "You would not be so lucky. If he touches you or... _Sam..._ you will turn to gold."

"How long until your wing heals?" Sam asked softly.

She responded sadly. "Weeks, if not longer for this type of damage. Or, I need to bathe in a freshwater spring. Water sprites can use water to heal _if _the water is pure."

Sam closed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced up at Dean. His emotions ran a spark of determination, blocking all others. It was a light in a tunnel of darkness, pushing away the shadow. "Well, I guess we should find a freshwater spring as soon as we can."

Surprised, she glanced up at him. "You would find one for me?"

* * *

><p>Lityerses found himself getting more aggravated by the minute.<p>

First, that interfering little water sprite had thrown off his portal. Instead of coming out near his father's old kingdom, he had appeared in a strange land cut off from his goal by an entire ocean of water.

Next, he had lost his weapon in the transference. When he was trying to stop the little sprite, it must have fallen from his jacket. It would be missed. The weapon had been made with gold so his touch would not have changed it at all. He would regret its loss.

Now, he was seeking out one of his main goals: people. People to kill, people to worship him and his power, people to rule over, as was his right. So what if he wasn't near his father's old kingdom... he would create his own kingdom here from scratch. It would be bigger, and richer, and more powerful than his father's ever was.

Emerging from the thicket of trees, he came to a landscape with a strange ground.

It was thick, and hot and black. His feet burned even through the soles of his shoes when he stood on it. Parts of the black were divided up by strange dark yellow lines and stripes. They were orderly, and some of the divisions had metal monstrosities resting in them.

Confused by this scene, Lityerses walked forward, coming up to one of the large metal contrivances. He did a careful circle around it, seeking out anything familiar. Nothing sprang to mind. With a small shrug, he reached forward with his hand.

"Hey! Get 'way from that!"

Lityerses turned, and saw a man running at him. He smiled. Now _this_ was better. Humans he knew. Humans he could handle. And this human looked angry. Even better.

"What the hell're you doin wih muh car?" The man slurred at him. Lityerses didn't respond right away, content to let the man make the first move. Thousands of years stranded from his home had taught him patience.

It didn't take long. The man came right up to him, getting in his face. Lityerses hid his smile as the human shoved his hands against Lityerses' chest. And again right after. He feigned being hurt, and put his hand out to catch himself against the car.

It was like the ripples in a pond at first. Where he touched the car was like dropping a stone into still waters. Gold spread out, overcoming the black finish of the car, taking over the windows, everything. Even the rubber tires followed suite. The entire transformation took around ten seconds, leaving a beautiful golden statue in its place

"W-What?" The man cried out. For a moment he almost seemed as though he was going to collapse. Then he turned to Lityerses and went for his throat.

This time, instead of taking the blow, Lityerses caught the man's fist. The change happened the same way as it had the car, with one difference. Since the car had been inanimate, there had been no reaction. Here, the man had enough time to pull his fist away, staring in disbelief as the color continued its inexorable march up his arm. He started to scramble to get his jacket off, which turned into a failed attempt, for on the parts of his arms that were gold, the jacket had become a part of him. The expanding gold wavered as it hit his chest, shooting out in all directions.

After that it was over.

A lonely statue of a man stood there in the parking lot, desperately taking off his coat next to a matching statue of a car. Both were cold, unmoving. Lifeless.

Beautiful.

Lityerses smiled.

* * *

><p>Normally, Dean wasn't a fan of any supernatural creature on principal, but he was starting to find his outlook was changing.<p>

For one thing, his own brother couldn't exactly be called human anymore. As much as Dean wished he could will it to be otherwise, Sam was what he was. And it wasn't his fault. One day they might find a way to break his curse. Dean had spent every minute he could on the computer, researching anything he could find on curses without Sam knowing. He didn't want Sam to know how desperate he was to find a way to break it. Sam accepted things the way they were. Dean couldn't bring himself to do the same. And so far, there was no information he could find on the type of curse used on his brother.

He was starting to find it was just as likely that Sam was going to spend the rest of his life smurf-sized. It was just... Sam's size might come in handy on occasion, especially if they needed to break into hard to reach places, but it twisted Dean's heart at the thought of not being able to fix Sam, and of how dangerous even he could be to his brother on an everyday basis.

And from what he'd seen of the other people Sam's size, they were nothing like the monsters he hunted. They took care of each other, they didn't try to hurt anyone, and they were even willing to raise up a child that wasn't theirs. All they did was try to survive in a world set against them. He knew humans who wouldn't do as much for each other.

Sam had told him, not too long ago, that there were hunters that went after the tiny little communities. They were tracked by reports of missing items, people catching glimpses of them from the corner of the eye. Entire communities that never did anything to hurt anyone, never did anything but try to survive, destroyed in an instant. Dean could understand now why Sam's father had been so angry at him for letting Dean know he existed - he'd known Dean was a hunter and must have feared the same would happen to them.

All he'd wanted to do was protect his family and friends from a huge threat they were helpless in front of.

Dean himself.

He cringed from the thought, knowing how true it was. How easy it would have been for him to hunt them down. Child's play.

But in the end, Dean could never have done anything that would hurt Sam, especially not kill his family. No matter how different they were from him. He felt sick to his stomach even _thinking_ about it. He wished he could talk to them... tell them that no matter what, Sam's family was his family. Size be damned. Nothing was more important than family.

For a moment, Dean stared down at his hands, relaxed on the table. He was very good with his hands… an expert mechanic that could fix most cars, deftly able to pick locks, he'd long been crafting his own weapons and bullets… But at the same time he couldn't help thinking about what they looked like from Sam's point of view. Far bigger and faster than he was, able to pick him up against his will, restrain him effortlessly...

Dangerous.

Dean closed his eyes regretfully. If only things could be different.

Now that he knew about the tiny people, he would never be able to harm them the way others did so callously. He knew there were so similar, so _human_ in the way they lived, that they didn't deserve that fate. He still wished he'd been able to thank Walt and Mallory - the couple that had adopted Sam, saving his life and raising him as their own - for what they'd done. For what they'd lost for Sam.

For what they'd given back to Dean.

So he wasn't _completely_ against helping out a fairy - sorry, a _sprite_ - track down a cursed amulet. Especially when they'd be saving lives if they helped her.

He just couldn't bring himself to trust her as completely as Sam seemed to, though.

For the moment, Sam was still talking to the girl. He seemed happy to have someone his size around. Dean was sitting at the other end of the table to give them some space. Even Sam hated it when he hovered worriedly over them. The tiny sprite was still giving Dean sidelong glances whenever he moved. She was very easy to startle, he'd found. Understandable when someone had crushed your wing in their hands not long ago, even if it hadn't been Dean. So he tried to stay in one spot as much as he could while still being able to hear what they were talking about. He knew Sam would get pissy at him if he tried to hover any more than that, especially after his earlier outburst. He still felt awful about trapping Sam against his will, even if he knew it was for the best - better a bitchy Sam than a dead Sam, any day.

And it had been so weird, staring down at his clenched fists and knowing that his little brother's _entire body_ was in there. Trapped. Sam's best attempts at escape hadn't even been able to budge one finger. The feeling of his tiny arms and legs punching and kicking desperately against the fingers walled around him had at most tickled. It gave Dean a pang of fear at the realization of how vulnerable Sam would be if anyone other than Dean got their hands on him. The power Dean had had over Sam in those short moments had been terrifying. He wouldn't even trust his dad or Bobby to hold Sam with him so defenseless. Any hunter, really. _Nothing_ was more important to him than Sam's safety.

The TV was still on, playing through the nightly news. Dean's stomach rumbled at him, reminding him they'd skipped breakfast _and_ lunch so far, and all he'd had was a granola bar the _entire_ day. His stomach seemed to be of the opinion that this was a complete atrocity and insisted on reminding him every chance it got. He put a hand on it, hoping Sam and the sprite hadn't noticed. Sam always got twitchy around him when his stomach growled, and he couldn't imagine the sprite reacting any differently. He sighed. It wasn't like it was his _fault_ he was so much bigger than his brother. He _hated_ the fact he could scare Sam just by sitting there.

Trying to distract himself from the thought of food, he turned his attention to the TV. And just barely caught the current headline before the newscast switched stories.

_**Gold statue of a man and a car found in Biggerson's parking lot, thought to be hoax.**_

"Sam!"

* * *

><p>Lityerses kept to the shadows, watching the humans swarm over his statues like locusts. His face was stretched into a facsimile of a smile, long unused to such expressions after a millennia spent in the lonely forest realm of the sprites. These pitiful little humans had no idea what he was capable. This was only the beginning of his golden kingdom.<p>

He turned from the scene. These humans were of little consequence to him. He needed to find a base to build his kingdom from. And more than anything, he needed to find the meddling little sprite and put an end to her. She was the only one in this world with the ability to interfere with his plans. He couldn't have that, there was too much work to do.

Before he was able to walk away, a voice cut through the background noise. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Lityerses turned in surprise. There had been no one near him a moment ago. A man was standing where he'd been moments before, hands in his pockets and legs spread out. He gave Lityerses a sneering smile, and for a moment it seemed as though his eyes reflected black.

Lityerses cocked his head thoughtfully. The man's appearance was strange enough to pique his curiosity. "Who are you?" He asked.

"Let's just say I have... similar interests." The man sauntered a few feet closer, but stayed far enough to stay out of Lityerses reach. "You have a... unique ability."

Lityerses tracked him with his eyes. "And what of it?" He demanded. This conversation was quickly boring him. Once the man came within reach, all it would take was a touch...

"You want it all, don't you? Wine, women, song... the whole deal. But I can tell it's been a while since you were here last... things have changed a bit since the last time you were earthside. You could say I can offer you... guidance." He stopped his pacing for a moment to gaze out at the golden statue of a man and his car, still surrounded by the press and police. "Friendly advice, you could call it."

Lityerses narrowed his eyes. "And why would you do that? Just out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Heh, of course not. Let's be honest with each other here. I just want a few... people removed. Nothing beyond your abilities. That touch you have... quite powerful. One brush of your hand and certain annoyances can be removed. Certain _dangerous_ annoyances, to you and me."

"I'm listening."

The man walked past him, quite close this time. "First, we should retire to somewhere more... private."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

The secrets out! Nixie isn't a fairy, she's a water sprite. Can't make assumptions, now can we, Sam? Also - her name literally means "water sprite"

A bit from our little broken sprite's point of view... exactly how she see's the world around her. She is certainly one of my most unique characters I've ever wrote about. Love her. Baffling the boys from the start. Good girl.

And of course we need to fill in a little from Dean's point of view... he was feeling left out. Can't have that.

For future reference, Lityerses _is _directly out of one of the King Midas legends. Usually when he's in a legend, Zoë isn't. Here, I combined the two and added a few parts from the King Midas book I read as a child. He always put such love into those roses! Hopefully, this gives you an idea of how much I adored the legend of Midas' golden touch. Read about it all the time. :) And Nixie certainly has a unique ability.

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They _absolutely_ make my day!

**Further Notes:**

Last week, the question was raised "What is Sam?" by my friend helloootricksterr.

I'll pause briefly to clear it all up.

Sam is human. The curse only took his size from him, not his humanity. This isn't saying the people that found and adopted Sam are necessarily human like him... that's a mystery Sam and Dean haven't got to the bottom of yet. With any luck, they will eventually.

But, you may have noticed Sam doesn't consider himself a human. He'll be the first to point out that Dean is his 'human' brother. This is all about his perception of himself. He doesn't perceive himself as a human anymore. Not after spending thirteen years running from humans, trying to not get caught. Just think of all the times they had to go without dinner because they couldn't get food from the kitchen, or his dad almost got caught in a room. All that happened because of _humans._ So he was raised thinking of himself as different. Separate. Now, he'll look at Dean and be like "No, I'm not one of those," because in his mind, size defines humanity instead of biology, which is wrong. Perception vs. reality.

Just think of it from his point of view.

Stand him next to Dean, he can see the heel of Dean's boot. He can look up and maybe make out the underside of his brother's chin, unless Dean's looking down at him. It's like standing next to a cliff. A cliff that has a mind of its own. His own _brother_ could step on him without noticing. It's a sobering thought. Sam makes his way through tunnels that Dean couldn't fit his _hand_ through. It's very hard when you're standing down there on the ground to see yourself as the same thing. Whether you are or aren't. It's a little better when he's sitting on Dean's shoulder, but he still can't just say "I want to go to the library," and go without Dean's agreement. And help.

Dean'll never say Sam's less than human. Hell, if Dean knew Sam thinks that way, even just a little, he'd be pissed. He teases Sam about being a borrower, but in his heart he considers Sam his equal. Always will. No matter what size. But after being raised by people who avoid humans as much as they can for so long, Sam will have a hard time considering himself human ever again.

There are instances where Sam will briefly admit his humanity... the scene with Nixie in the last chapter one of the most poignant. Plus, remember. He was trying to reassure her that Dean was safe. Saying that Dean was the same as Sam was his way of doing that. (Plus, he's not used to talking to girls. She had him all discombobulated.)

Well, that turned out a lot longer than I thought. Any questions, just ask. Did I confuse you even more or did this help?


	5. Truths

Sam stalked back and forth on the table, aggravated at how long everything was taking. Nixie was sitting to the side, on a thick book with her broken wing stretched out to the side, and Dean had the computer on in front of him and was loading up the story on the golden statue. They had missed the first half of the news story, and Dean wanted to make sure they hadn't missed any important details.

"Sam, dude. Chill. The world isn't going to end in the next half hour."

Unable to help himself, Sam whirled around. "But people could be in trouble, Dean! And we're just sitting around here!"

For some reason, Dean seemed to find this funny. He couldn't quite hold in a snicker while he explained. "Alright, let's be clear. First off, we're not sitting around. We're doing _research. _The first thing about hunting you need to know is you can't help anyone if you don't know what you're up against. All hunters swear by it. Or at least the living hunters swear by it. Not too many make it long without proper respect for research. You need to find out as much as you can before going in and putting your ass on the line. You can't help anyone if you go swinging in half-cocked and get yourself killed because you're not prepared. Second, as far as we can tell, he's just turning people to gold. Which, if we get Nixie to a freshwater spring, she says she can fix. We haven't had any reports of dead bodies in the town he's at." Dean arched an eyebrow down at Sam. "Besides, you usually enjoyed this type of thing when we were kids. _I'm_ supposed to be the impatient one."

And Sam knew all that, he did, but he still felt so aggravated that he kicked the empty bottlecap from Nixie's drink across the table. The next thing he knew, he was overshadowed by a huge hand as it easily scooped him off the table. Sam flailed in annoyance before being dropped unceremoniously back on the table, away from where he'd been standing a moment ago. Once he recovered from the disorientation, he found himself standing on the computer, at the edge of the keyboard.

He glared at Dean. "Dammit, Dean! What the hell!"

One of the hands next to him gestured at the screen, completely ignoring his outburst. "Check this out."

Sam tore himself away from his aggravated tirade, flashing one last glower up at Dean. There was no way he was letting Dean get away with that one.

But that was for later. He peered at the huge screen in front of him. The video started, where the golden statues had been discovered. Everyone on the screen that was interviewed was shocked and surprised. From what he could tell (and he admittedly didn't have much experience at this) no one seemed to be faking. Then the camera panned slowly from left to right. "Dean, freeze it!"

The finger next to him clicked the mouse, stopping the picture. "What?"

"There, by the trees. Doesn't that guy seem suspicious to you?"

Dean leaned down to get a better look at the tiny figure on the screen. His chin hovered only inches away from Sam to be close enough to see. Sam froze at how close his brother was, suddenly nervous. Dean didn't notice, thankfully.

The person was standing in the shadows in the background, making him incredibly hard to see well. Blurry pixilation wiped out all but the most basic features. Nixie got up as well, coming around the laptop to see what they had on the screen. She was careful to stay clear of Dean's hands, still obviously nervous around him, especially after he'd grabbed Sam without warning.

Nixie was the first to speak up, "That is Lityerses. I know that shape."

Dean frowned. "Why's he still there? Wouldn't he want to avoid making people suspicious?"

Nixie shrugged. "Why would he care? This world... it has changed since we were here last. He would not know how to... blend in. And it is not his style. He has always preferred the world to be straightforward in his own way. You take what you want, in his way of thinking."

At this, Sam spoke up. Something was bothering him from her story earlier. "Nixie... if he's so set on killing like that, how have you lived with him for so many years without him attacking or killing you?"

She giggled. Dean and Sam shared a confused look at her out of character reaction before turning back to her. "You humans. I always forget you are made different. My sisters and I cannot die the same way as humans can. We can be broken, injured, maimed... but we are water. Water cannot be destroyed. It can be altered, reformed, reshaped... but it is always _water._ And so long as water remains, so shall we." A brief frown touched her lips. "Trust me, it is not from lack of trying on his part. There were many years he spent trying to find a way to kill us. Though it was painful, no permanent damage, as you can see." She spread her arms with a flourish.

Sam turned back to the screen, trying to find any memorable features about Lityerses to help identify him later. Jet black hair was about all he can make out. Lityerses was so far away from the camera, even his clothes were blurry.

After a few moments of them watching him, Dean clicked the mouse pad to finish up the video. The camera finished panning across the parking lot, slipping back to the golden statues. For a few seconds, Lityerses continued to stand there, watching the aftermath of his attack. And then he started to walk away. A reporter walked across the screen, briefly blocking Lityerses from view. When he came into view again, there was another man standing near him that hadn't been there before. Then the video ended.

"Dean, did you see that?" Sam practically crowed, briefly basking in the thought that he was meant for this life. The life of a hunter. These thoughts were quickly crowded out by familiar doubts. He was only a few inches tall, after all. How was he supposed to really be able to ever _help_ Dean hunt when he couldn't even pick up a regular sized knife? Or pull the trigger on a gun? He was starting to find these thoughts plaguing him more and more, recently.

"Yeah, that was weird." With no idea about what was really going through Sam's mind, Dean was already replaying the end of the video. He froze it right when the newscaster walked across the screen and started to click through, screen by screen. He stopped when the strange man appeared again.

All they could make out was a black suit, and brown hair. The man was standing with his back to the camera, and he was only in the video for seconds before the feed cut out, with the broadcast over. Far too little to help determine the man's identity.

"Huh," Dean said thoughtfully. He sat back from the table, pushing the chair away. "I'm thinking we need to get down there, see if we can't get ahold of a better copy of that video and find out who's meeting up with our golden boy. If we get all that, we should be in good shape to go from there."

Sam stood back as his brother got up to get their things together, wishing he could help more. Nixie still wouldn't take her eyes off Dean, nerves clearly on edge while she stood there. Her wings were practically vibrating.

Deciding there _was_ something he could do, Sam went over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "Nixie, you don't have to be afraid of Dean. He'd never do anything to hurt you, you know."

She stared at his hand like it was an alien appendage for a long moment. Finding himself suddenly self-conscious, Sam took his hand back.

Her eyes met his in a deep blue stare. "You say that, but you do not mean it."

"Of course I do!" He protested.

She _hmmmed_ to herself quietly. "How can you ask me to not fear when you fear him yourself?"

Sam scoffed at that. "That's stupid. I'm not afraid of my big brother."

She inclined her head at him, eyes like twin oceans - so deep he could get lost in them. She stayed like this for a long moment. Something about her eyes made him feel like she was laughing inwardly at him, despite the expressionless gaze she held him in. "As you say."

Sam sat down on one of the nearby books and checked to see where Dean was. For the moment he was still out of earshot, noisily gathering up his weapons and Sam's bed. Sam suppressed a shiver at how easily Dean picked up items that weighed far more than Sam. It was all so easy for him. "What makes you think I'm afraid of him, Nixie?" He asked curiously, quietly, glad Dean was out of earshot.

"The way you always watch. Even now, while he is away. You have not once let your guard down around him since I have been here. Yet, when you were with me alone, you seemed more relaxed. More at peace." She blinked long and slow. "Forgive me if I have misread the situation."

Sam hesitated. _Is she right? Do I still act like that around Dean?_ He wanted her to be wrong, wanted so badly to be able to trust Dean completely... but he knew that in a way, she was right. He never let his guard drop around his brother. In fact, the only time he'd come close was when he was sleeping in Dean's pocket. It had been warm and safe, protected... and he still had been nervous being there, especially having no idea how he'd gotten there. The only time he'd truly let his guard down was while he was asleep. He sighed, combing back his hair with his fingers, upset at the revelation. He knew Dean didn't deserve his fear - Dean was very careful around Sam, constantly checking to make sure his brother was alright. He'd never do _anything_ to hurt Sam.

Sam was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice when Dean finished packing. He jumped in surprise when he saw the giant hand in front of him, resting casually on the table. Dean's deep chuckle filled the air. "Woolgathering while I do all the work, Sammy?"

Sam bounced to his feet, chagrined. "Sorry, lost track." He grabbed his pack from next to the computer while Dean tucked the laptop away. Once they were all packed up, Sam stood next to Nixie, realizing they hadn't figured out what to do with her yet. With her wing broken like that, it would be easy for her to get hurt while traveling.

Dean knelt down so he was level with the table. "Nixie," he started softly, looking her directly in the eyes. "Do you want to come with us? We're going after Lityerses, as soon as we can. And we could definitely use your help with the bastard." Sam was impressed with Dean, knowing how hard it was for him to trust her.

She nervously met his gaze for a few moments before breaking away to look down at her feet. Then switched to Sam, almost making him feel like he was under a microscope from the way her strange eyes pierced through him. "Yes." She turned to Dean again. "Yes, if you will help me stop my fallen brother, I will come with you."

Dean smiled at her, the winning smile Sam was starting to realize his brother saved for the ladies. Even in just a week of being with Dean, he'd seen his brother weasel his way out of trouble more than once with just that smile. Dean extended his hand slowly near her, carefully resting it a few inches away. She climbed on while Sam watched from the table, surprised by her trust. Lifting the hand slow enough to not startle her, Dean held her not far from his face. "Do you mind hanging out in my jacket pocket till we reach the car? It'll only be for a few minutes, and there's more room in there than the chest pocket for your wing. I don't want to risk it getting worse."

"Sure," she said, slight anxiousness filling her voice. Dean lowered the hand holding her to the pocket so she could climb in without bumping the wing.

Once she was settled, Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sam. "Got your borrowing bag all ready to go, shorty?"

Sam hefted a groan at his brother's persistence. "Helpful, Dean. _Still_ not a borrower."

His brother winked before holding his hand out for Sam as well. Once he was settled on it, the hand lifted slowly to the shoulder, Sam's favorite place to sit. Once Sam was safely settled and holding on to the collar out of sight, Dean grabbed his bag from the floor and walked out of the room, leaving yet another motel behind.

* * *

><p>Lityerses found himself in a small dark cabin, watching the black-eyed man with suspicion in his eyes.<p>

The black-eyed man was talking steadily. "...And so, you have to make sure to take out anyone you identify as a hunter first, that way you won't have them interfering."

"But why should I fear interference from food bringers?"

The man gave a disdainful snort. "How long has it been since you were last here? Surely in your day there were hunters. Men on their own private crusade to kill any monster they can find - you and myself included."

_"Aahh._ You speak of the Slayers. In my land, they saw themselves as those on a noble quest, defending the weak and innocent. They were fools, rushing headlong into life and death situations for little gain. Putting their own lives at risk to simply _save lives,_ and never even ask for anything in return! Halfwits."

"Hmm, sounds just like a few men I know. Exactly - these hunters, these _slayers _are the only people who could screw up any of your plans before they come to fruition. We have to take them out before they take us out."

Lityerses shook his head. "They cannot stop me. The only interference I fear is that of the water sprite who tried to stop me in the first place. She and her sisters are persistent and determined. I must find her and crush her. _Again."_

The black-eyed man frowned at that. "Sprite? Like a little fairy? Why are you afraid of a fairy?"

_"Water sprite._ Not fairy. Fairies are frivolous little nags, while the sprites believe that they're on a holy quest to stop me. One was in the portal I used when I crossed over. She is what made it go haywire and transport me to the wrong end of the earth. Her magic interfered with mine. I must find her before she can reach her sisters." He walked over to a chair, placing a hand on it. Seeing the golden color spread out at his touch brought back his calm feeling. He had half of what he searched for. Soon, the other would follow.

"Yes, well we'll work on her as soon as we get you used to this world. I'm sure a tracking spell or two can find us this little sprite. For now, you should eat and then we should clean off any hunters that picked up your trail. I'm sure a few picked it up after that news story about the parking lot statues aired."

Lityerses took a seat on his golden chair. "I have no need of food."

The man arched his eyebrows. "Truly? But you _are_ human, are you not?"

"Ever since traveling to the realm beyond, I do not age, and I do not eat or drink. These are _mortal_ weaknesses that I have risen above. Now all I want is the gold, and the power over life and death. My father denied these to me before. I will not be denied again."

The black-eyed man laced his fingers together thoughtfully. "Well, we can definitely do something about those."

* * *

><p>Dean pulled the Impala out of the parking lot slowly, not wanting to send the sprite sitting on the bench seat next to him flying. She was resting on the same shirt he'd placed Sam on the day before, with her gimp wing stretched out next to her. Sam was still leaning against his neck on his right shoulder.<p>

They were going to head to the town Lityerses had been spotted in on the news, but on the way Dean was definitely stopping for food. He was practically starving, and he couldn't see Sam doing any better, since he'd ate as much as Dean that day. Maybe less. Well, definitely less, but he knew what he meant.

Dean pulled himself out of his confused-ass thoughts, concentrating on the road. Spotting a drive-thru ahead, he turned his head to Sam, murmuring, "You might want to duck out of sight for a minute."

Sam saw where they were going, and took Dean's point. He slid down the arm, landing down on the seat near Nixie. Dean kept from moving the whole time, still a little weirded out by how his brother used him to climb on like a jungle gym.

"Hey Nixie," Dean said. "What do you like to eat?"

"Mmm, fruit-of-the-forest, leaves-of-the-ground, seeds... all the forest has to offer." She shifted on the shirt, making room for Sam to sit next to her.

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well okay then, this is gonna be fun."

Dean pulled up to the ordering station, checking quickly to make sure Sam and the sprite were out of sight from the window. They were sitting far enough back against the seat that his body was enough to shield them from view, as long as they stayed put.

A staticy voice came over the speaker. _"Hi, welcome to Biggerson's. May I take your order?"_

"Uh, yeah. Can I have a number three, extra bacon. A bottle of water..." he glanced down at the sprite for a moment, thinking fast. "And a fruit salad and a side salad."

_"That'll be 11.23 at the first window. Please drive up."_

After getting the food from the window, Dean pulled into a spot in an abandoned parking lot a half mile away. They wouldn't have to worry about anyone catching sight of Sam or a sprite in the car here. He pulled out his sandwich, and placed the salads down on the seat next to where Sam and Nixie were sitting. Pinching off a small piece of his sandwich, he handed it down to Sam.

Or at least tried to.

Sam waved him off. "I think I'd rather try the salad."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at that crazy thought. "Really? You'd rather have rabbit food than a delicious burger?"

"Well, no. I don't know. I've never _had_ salad before. Or anything fresh like this." Sam crossed his arms, refusing to meet Dean's eyes.

Dean frowned in realization. His brother hadn't been able to have a lot of things growing up the way he had. Most Dean knew about - books, computers, TV (without putting himself at risk to watch, as they'd both found out when Sam had tried to watch _Godzilla vs. Mothra_ the day Dean had caught him in his motel room). He'd never thought about fruits and veggies like that, since they weren't something he ate on a regular basis. Especially salads. Ugh. But he could imagine how refreshing a change fresh fruit would be when you were raised on stale crackers and rice, leftover chips and junk food. Anything that you could find abandoned in a motel room, or in the small kitchen on the premises. And getting food from the kitchen had been a last resort from what Sam had told him, saved for when they had nothing else. Taking from there too often would draw attention to everyone that lived there.

And he realized Sam had never asked for anything like that - not because he didn't _want_ to try it, but because no matter how many times Dean told him to not worry about not being able to finish a meal, to not worry about how much it cost, Sam would just say he was fine and have some of Dean's. Guilt bubbled up in Dean for not realizing it sooner. He _had_ to find a way to break Sam out of that. He wanted Sam to have everything he'd lost all those years ago. Even if it was as simple as a salad.

He took back the piece of sandwich, popping it into his mouth. If Sam didn't want it, no use wasting it.

Sam went over to the food, gesturing Nixie over to it. She was still far more skittish, barely trusting what was in front of her. Dean was glad she at least seemed a bit less nervous around Sam. If it was just him, he was sure she would have run away as soon as she could.

He ate the rest of his burger while the two tiny people sitting next to him bolted down the fresh foods. The sprite mostly stuck to the fruit, while surprisingly Sam seemed to enjoy the salad. Weird. He wouldn't have expected giant leaves to be particularly tasty when you're four inches tall. But hey, whatever worked. He wasn't about to argue with his brother after everything Sam had gone through. He deserved to try new things and Dean would be damned if he ever tried to stop Sam.

Once Dean was done, he tossed his crumpled up foil into the bag the food had come in. Since Sam and the sprite were still eating their way through the rest, he decided to leave it on the seat for them for the time being.

"Alright, you two. I'm heading out, so try to hold on." He met Sam's gaze with a wink. "No running in the car."

Figuring they'd be fine down there as long as he didn't speed down the road, he pulled out into traffic.

* * *

><p>Walt* settled back against a tree casually, keeping an eye on the cabin he'd tracked the demon too.<p>

This demon so far was one persistent bastard. He'd been at the scene of three different deaths thus far. None directly traceable to him of course, but Walt's partner, Roy had found a pattern they'd been able to follow. That pattern had led Walt directly to the demon, but before he'd been able to trap him the demon had changed its destination.

He'd suddenly gone from chasing a demon that turned perfectly normal men into despicable rapists and murderers to chasing a demon that was making buddy-buddy with a man dressed in old style Greek garb, as out of place as an Amish girl at a rave. Even more disturbing, he'd seen them meet up next to a golden statue of a man and a car that hadn't been there before, as denoted by the massive amount of newscasters around the scene.

Following them had been easy afterwards. Neither had a car, and had simply walked away from the strange scene in the parking lot. He hadn't yet figured why the demon had changed its tune so suddenly, but it couldn't be anything good. He needed to exorcise it as soon as possible, and find out what was going on with the strange Greek man with him.

Less than an hour later, the door of the cabin opened. The demon stepped out, walking casually along the pathway back to the city. Walt sunk into the shadows. He had a demon trap up ahead on the path, a Key of Solomon strategically placed in the deep shadows where it would be difficult to spot. With any luck, he would be able to exorcise the demon before the other man took any notice of anything out of place.

He stalked along in the shadows, intent on shadowing the demon the entire way. He was so focused on his target that he didn't see another shadow following him not far behind. As the demon came right up to the trap, Walt pulled the canister of holy water he kept in his jacket out slowly, ready to do his job.

Something grabbed him from behind. "What the...?"

He whirled around, coming face to face with the strangely garbed man from before.

Lityerses smiled at him. "Sorry, you can't have him. I need him for a little while longer."

Walt gasped as he felt an icy coldness spreading from where the other man's hand had been not long ago. "You... what...?" His back slowly solidified, the cold touch going down his arms, and then his legs. He saw it at last. A sameness of color was spreading out with the cold, every part of him turning into a solid gold statue. "No..."

The cold reached his head and he lost the ability to see. Soon after, he lost the ability to feel.

* * *

><p>Lityerses turned to the black-eyed man, who was now standing right next to the devils trap that the hunter had set for him. "So, is this one of your <em>hunters<em> you fear so much?"

"Hmm, I'm not so much _afraid_ of them as I am wary. After all, if you know what you're doing, they aren't much of a bother. But there are a few out there that are quite skilled. Best to rid the world of as many of the hunters as possible, even the easy ones like this man."

"So, now what do you plan?" Lityerses kept his annoyance out of his voice. "So far, we have plotted and planned, but done nothing but take out insignificant little nobody's."

"In a rush after all those centuries?"

"No." Lityerses growled. "But there is a certain little sprite out there that I must find and stop. I can feel her growing closer every moment."

"Hmm, we'll have to figure out what to do with her then. So, how _do_ you kill a sprite?"

Lityerses glanced at him, slight disbelief in his eyes. "You _can't_ kill a sprite."

"Oh, I highly doubt that. Have you tried your wonderful touch on one? Seems the kinda thing that can stop all comers."

"Stop all... what?"

"Never mind. What I'm getting at, is you should just touch her. End all your troubles by just letting her find you."

Lityerses laughed, a dark, unused sound. "My touch will not work on a water sprite. They are the ones that were born to stop this power. The sprite must be trapped, locked away where she can never reach me, or summon her sisters to her side. Once her wings are healed, I'm sure that will be the first thing she does."

"Well then, guess we'll have to trap her. Any ideas on how?"

Lityerses smirked.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

*Walt has no relation to my other character that shares the same name. He is in fact the partner of Roy, and these two hunters showed up in the show in **Season 5: Episode 16 Dark Side of the Moon. **

On my profile there's a link to an image of Nixie now for anyone who's interested!

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!

**For anyone interested I have a contest running on my deviantart profile - Same username as I have here


	6. Motel Room Adventures

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of yet another motel room. Sam heard him let out a sigh overhead, green eyes peering towards where Sam was sitting. The ride had passed uneventfully, the sprite settling down into a deep sleep not long into it and Sam climbing back up to his perch on Dean's shoulder. It was a safer place to sit than on the actual seat of the car when you're only a few inches tall. He could hold onto Dean's collar there, and not worry about the shirt sliding off the seat with him still on it if Dean had to slam on the brakes. And somehow, sitting next to his big brother like this reassured Sam despite all his misgivings. It made him feel... like he had a place in the world. A home.

Not to mention, he hated sitting so far down. He could barely see Dean's face from there, reminding him of exactly how different they were now. He couldn't help but feel like he was sitting worlds away from Dean like that, no matter how close they were in reality. It hadn't been so bad while Nixie was awake. He'd spent at least an hour talking about her world, and all the differences there were between how their peoples lived. Once she'd fallen asleep again, lulled by her continuing weakness due to her injuries, he'd wanted to go back to where he felt the safest, the most welcome in a dangerous world.

Talking with her had been fascinating. Learning about the forests she lived in... for millennia with only her sisters and Lityerses for company. Never aging, never dying. It was like having time suspended around them, nothing changing in all those years aside from Lityerses' determination and rage. A bittersweet realm. A realm of eternal twilight.

Dean glanced over at him from the corner of his eye while Sam was lost in thought. "Coming in with me to get the room?"

Sam checked outside from where he was sitting. From what he could see, Dean had parked the car away from everyone else, in a forgotten corner of the parking lot. "Eh, I think I'll stay here with Nixie. You can handle it alone, right? Or should I go and hold your hand?" He stood up with a grin, stretching his arms over his head.

Dean snorted. "Hold my hand? You're talking about the hand that holds you, shrimp." While he was talking, he held his hand out to Sam, keeping still while Sam climbed on. Sam found himself lowered back down to the seat and watched while his brother climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

Nixie stirred at the earthquake Dean caused at their level, waking disoriented. "Where... where am I?" She sat up quick and hissed when her wings tried to stretch.

"We're still in the car." Sam helped her sit up without hurting her wing more. "Dean's getting a room at the motel right now."

She sat back against the wall of the bench seat behind them with a sigh. Rubbing her hand over the seat, she stated, "I hope this will all end soon. I miss my forest. This... everything is so artificial here. So lifeless and cold."

"It's not all like this." Sam wrapped his arms around his knees, settling down next to her. "You've only seen a small bit of our world. There are... beautiful mountains, and forests and lakes out there. Teeming with all kinds of life."

"Have you seen these mountains and these forests and these lakes?"

"A bit, before I got cursed." He closed his eyes at the memories. A time when he could still look down on things instead of it all towering over him. He remembered longing to finish growing up so he could be taller than his dad. _Well, that's never going to happen,_ he thought truthfully. "I went hiking with my brother a few times. And one time, a friend of our Dad's took us hunting."

She recoiled at that. "Hunting in the forest?"

"Oh, hey," he said, realizing his mistake. He tried to reassure her. "He ended up getting mad at us. Neither of us could shoot a deer. All we ended up learning that time was how to track in the woods."

She still eyed him suspiciously. Sam realized the thought of humans stomping through the forest bothered her. "Look, my brother and I _are_ hunters. But we don't kill animals. We hunt monsters, things that hurt people like you and me and Dean. We'd never hurt animals like that."

She turned away. "Is that why your brother eats animal flesh?"

Sam frowned in thought. "It's what all humans eat. Even I eat meat when I can. He certainly doesn't think of it that way. People in our world can't survive on plants alone like you. It's who we are."

She sighed, wings wilting. "I'm sorry. I should not judge you so harshly. I am grateful for your help. You are just so - different - from my sisters."

Sam smiled. "It's okay, I understand exactly how you feel. I'm getting used to a lot here too. Like this," he gestured around the inside of the Impala, towering high over them both. "When I was a kid, I used to ride in here everywhere. Our dad, he traveled a lot. We never stayed in one place for long. But then, I got hit by this curse. I had to live like this, separated from my father and Dean. Long story short, I only just met back up with Dean not long ago. And... now this car, which used to be my second home, is... huge. Foreboding. It's a little scary, how small I am now. I can't even open the door without Dean. Everything is different... I never used to think that way, before Dean came back into my life. But now, I can't think of anything else. And as far as we know, this curse is permanent. I might be like this forever."

She met his eyes. "So, maybe I am not the only one who needs to adapt."

"Yeah, maybe," he said, hanging his head. Then he raised it again, curious. He remembered something she'd said, the first time she'd seen him. "Nixie... when we first met, you touched my chest and did something to see that I was a human under a curse. What did you do? Could you dispel the curse if you had your magic? Make me normal again?"

For a long moment she stared at him with her expressionless eyes. Then she glanced away, a frown etched on her face. "Sam... That curse is beyond my power to break." She raised a hand, brushing it over his face. "What was done to you, was done to your soul, while you were still growing. It is a unique style of magic that leaves a pattern on the soul itself. All I can do is see the etchings, the tracings of the magic. The curse itself is beyond my touch. I know of no ways to help you." She scooched further from him on the vast shirt and refused to meet his eyes. "Sam... I _am_ sorry."

"Nixie..." He sighed. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself."

Dean chose that moment to open the door, making both of them jump in their seats from the sudden loud disruption. "I miss anything good?" He said with a smirk, looming right over them. "Got us a room, ready to go you two?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam called up. Damn he hated how nervous he still got like this.

He and Nixie kept still, waiting as a huge arm scooped up the shirt around them. There wasn't much they could do to help here, aside from staying in one place.

When Dean stood, he was holding it cupped against his chest. The two tiny people lost sight of the outside world, surrounded by the soft fabric walls on three sides, and the solid surface of Dean's jacket behind them, his arm forming a platform beneath for them to stand on. It was the best way for them to stay out of sight, but disconcerting how much they had to rely on Dean. Their whole world rocked in time to the gait of his footsteps, growing even darker as he went into the motel room.

The walls fell away as Dean lowered them to the table. Sam and Nixie stood unsteadily on the cushiony ground as Dean went to turn on the lights, brightening the room. He left them there on their own while he went back out to the car to get the rest of the stuff.

Once he had everything settled in the room, Dean came over to the table they were on, stripping off his jacket. "So, I'm gonna head down to the news station, see if I can get a name on the man meeting with Lityerses. You two want to come with or hang out here?"

"I should rest my wing." Nixie settled down into the shirt they were on as though that was the end of the conversation.

"Sam?"

"I'll stay here with Nixie, in case anything happens. Can't leave her alone, injured like that." Sam walked off the shirt, getting back onto solid ground where he didn't have to worry about tripping over every step. "Hey, mind leaving out the laptop for me?"

Once Dean had the laptop set up on the table for them, he left to get into his FBI getup. Sam watched him go into the bathroom with all his clothes. Once they were alone, he loaded up the computer, entering in the password Dean had set up on the computer, jumping from key to key. He had to change that at some point. If anyone ever got ahold of the computer, the stuff that Dean had on it would either get him committed or arrested. Or both. They needed much better security.

Nixie stayed on the giant shirt the whole time, relaxing into it and sleeping away the time while the brothers did their own thing. She still needed to get her strength up, and the rest would do her good. The bruising patterns on her arms were even darker now, a huge contrast between her delicately light blue skin and the contusions marring it.

Dean came back out, dressed up in a black suit a little while later. Sam couldn't help but snicker. Dean didn't look comfortable in the suit at all, standing there stiffly. Dean noticed Sam laughing at him and scowled down at his tiny brother while he was straightening the tie. "Alright, you can say it. I look like one of the Blues Brothers."

"Aw, I wouldn't say that," Sam said, smirking. "You look like a seventh grader at his first dance."

Dean glared at that. "You know, I really hate this thing. Feel like I'm wearing a monkey suit."

Sam laughed as he turned back to the computer. He couldn't help but be grateful he didn't have to dress in a suit like that. One of the few small perks of being so small he had to avoid interacting with any other people. A thought crossed his mind. "Hey, how are you going to get in there, anyway? People don't just let you in with a pretty suit, right?"

"Got that covered." Dean reached into his jacket, pulling an ID out of one of the inner pockets. He held it out for Sam to see.

"Agent DeYoung, FBI," Sam read off with a smile. "Hey, isn't that the..."

"Yep, from Styx. Good to see you remember the classics." Dean smirked as he put the ID away. "I've got enough of these to almost get into anything. FBI, Health Inspector..." he pointed at Sam with a wink, "Bikini Inspector."

"What use is that?" Sam wondered aloud.

Dean just laughed at that, grabbing his keys from the nightstand. "Alright, you two keep out of trouble. I shouldn't be gone long. Anyone tries to break in, Sam, you know what to do."

* * *

><p>Sharon sat at the front desk of the television studio. Aside from the brief excitement that day over the most recent story about the gold statues found at Biggerson's, her day was incredibly boring. Almost no one had come in or out of the station so far, and the majority of the reporters were out, trying to dig up more information on the mystery statue.<p>

No one knew where they had come from, or how they'd got there. They were found a little past mid-day, and none of the patrons at Biggerson's remembered seeing them appear. One minute, nothing. The next moment, enough gold to make P. Diddy squirm in envy.

And here she was, stuck at the front desk. Nothing to do but greet the few visitors that came through. So many years now she'd spent like this, just bringing home a paycheck to pay the rent. They'd never considered her for the part of a newscaster, or a reporter. Said she didn't have the 'charisma' they were looking for.

While she was ruminating over the year's she'd wasted waiting for her big break, the doors to the studio slid open, heralding the entrance of a man dressed up in a black suit. She couldn't help a smile at his entrance. She hadn't seen anyone seem so uncomfortable in a suit for years now, not since her prom.

He came right up to her counter, giving her a flirtatious smile. She smiled brightly back at him, glad to have something to break up the monotony of her day. Especially something so... easy on the eyes. "Hello, what brings you in?"

He leaned on the counter, "Hello Miss..." his eyes slid down to her nametag, "Sharon. My name's Agent DeYoung." He paused to pull an ID out of his jacket and held it out to her. She read it with surprise. FBI. He suddenly seemed even cuter. "I heard about the excitement you had earlier today. Something about... mystery gold statues that were found in a parking lot?"

"Oh yes," she breathed. "Big deal around here. Normally the most excitement we get around these parts is when some conservationists put a camera on an eagle. Saw our town from a bird's eye view."

"Heh," he laughed. "Sounds like riveting TV."

She leaned forward and met his eyes coyly. "And what makes the FBI so interested in a story about mystery statues?"

"Well, let's just say it caught the eyes of my superiors." He arched his eyebrows at her. "And what they're interested in, I investigate. Another hard day in the life of the FBI." He sighed deeply.

She smiled at that, unsure if he was trying too hard, or actually serious. "So, what can I do to help? You must have come for something."

"Yes, in fact. There was a newscast that aired early this afternoon, when they first found the statues." Here he leaned forward, catching her gaze with his green eyes. She'd never thought green was such a sexy color before today. "I need to see that video, and any others that might have been taken at that time. There's a man in it I need to ID."

She blushed at how close he was to her now. "Um... yeah. We actually have quite a few videos taken at that time. They're saving them for later casts, to keep the public interest as long as possible. Not that that's hard here, considering the normal level of excitement here."

She paged one of the assistants working. "Cal? You on your break?"

"No, why?"

"I have an FBI agent here that needs to check out the tapes from earlier today. From the Biggerson's parking lot. Can you show them to him?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be right up."

She turned her gaze back to the FBI agent. "He'll be up in a moment. Cal's a good guy. Hope you can find what you need." She pushed a piece of paper to him that she'd put the file numbers for the vids he needed. And a small surprise for him too.

He took the paper from her, arching his eyebrows when he read it. Once Cal came up and lead him away, he left with a wink at her. She sighed, blood rushing from her face. _What the hell was that? I never give my number out to anyone!_

And yet, she found herself hoping he'd call.

* * *

><p>Sam contemplated the drop off from the table.<p>

He was completely annoyed that Dean had left him and Nixie up on the table, but had left the majority of Sam's stuff and everything else all the way over on the bed. All he had with him was the bag he kept on his person at all times. Dean had jokingly named it his 'borrowing bag,' stuffed as it was with most of the equipment he needed to get around in a world made for humans without help. And of course enough extra room so he could stash his findings if he ever needed to. The rest of his belongings might as well have been worlds away on that bed. He sighed, turning back to Nixie.

Her injured wing had started twitching in pain a bit after Dean had left, slowly shaking the strings Sam had secured it with free. He wanted to set it again, but needed to get more toothpicks before he could manage that. One of them had snapped, leaving him short enough supplies to help her with. If only Dean had left the two of them on the bed, or better, under the nightstand where Sam usually stayed. But he realized his brother had been in a hurry when he left. Neither of them wanted more people to get hurt, especially if they could have prevented it.

Nixie had collapsed, completely passed out on the black shirt. The loss of the... ichor... in her wings was sapping more of her strength than they'd first thought. They needed to get her to a spring as soon as possible. In the meantime, if he could just get her wing set properly again, it might help her keep up her strength as long as possible. Without her, they would have no way to break the curse on the people turned to gold, and no way of contacting the sisters she claimed existed in that other realm. They'd be stuck at square one.

Sam grabbed his fishhook, finding a good place to secure it so he'd be able to use the table leg to climb down. Once he was certain it would hold his weight, he slowly slid off the edge of the table. It was nowhere near as safe as when he'd climbed up Dean, even though the distance was actually much less to the ground. Here, if he slipped off, there was no one around who'd be able to catch him. And the fishing line gave him much less of a grip than his brother's jeans.

Sam rolled his eyes at his inner monologue. _You did this for years without Dean around, this is no different than any other time you climbed a table. You're getting soft, having him around to help you out._ Pulling together every scrap of determination he had, he made it the rest of the way down without incident.

Leaving the fishhook on the table for when he got back, he hiked across the thick carpet, less nervous than the last time he'd traveled across the floor in an empty motel room. The last time he'd done this had been the day he'd been reunited with Dean for the first time. That time he'd been afraid of being caught out in the open. Before he'd had a human he could rely on to help him out in any situation. Still, he hated the feeling he got walking past the monumental furniture in the room. His insignificance gnawed at his stomach.

He finally reached the bed Dean's duffel was laying on. Running around it, he groaned when he saw the covers didn't drape down far enough for him to climb up. The second bed's cover stretched to the ground near the foot of the bed. _Dean, you couldn't have made this any harder for me if you tried, could you?_

That wasn't completely fair though. Dean just didn't consider how hard things were for Sam. Everything had always been same size for Dean, making it hard for him to realize leaving the bag a few feet away on the bed pretty much created a huge obstacle course for Sam.

Going around to the second bed, Sam pulled himself up, thankful the cover was much easier to get a solid grip on than the fishing line. It took him around ten minutes to get around the beds, hopping over the nightstand to cross between them. Luckily the jump was only two inches from the nightstand to each bed, since he didn't have anything to bridge the gap with on him. He finally reached the giant duffel bag, bracing himself against it for a moment to catch his breath.

"Alright, where'd Dean put you?" He grumbled under his breath. He pulled himself up to one of the huge pockets, grabbing ahold of the zipper. It was bigger than both his hands together, and he had to brace himself against the side to get it to move. "Sonova_bitch,"_ he muttered, straining. It just figured he could barely even get a pocket open without Dean around.

The zipper finally moved, opening up a large enough hole for Sam to slide inside. He opened it up as far as he could, trying to angle the pocket so the light from the room leaked in. He wasn't honestly sure what pocket Dean had put the items he needed into.

He sighed with relief when he caught sight of the toothpicks and floss sitting at the bottom, along with the rest of Dean's first aid kit supplies. Unfortunately, the bottom of the pocket would be over his head once he jumped down, and he had a feeling he'd lose what little light was making it in when he let go of the lip. He memorized the layout of where everything was as much as he could before dropping himself in.

He crashed into the bottom, buried under the odds and ends that Dean kept in there. Groaning, he shoved aside a container of first-aid cream that was the same size as he was. He worked to get his feet under him somehow in the closed, crowded accommodations.

He finally pulled himself to his feet, standing unsteadily on the items in there. _Dean, would it kill you to organize for once in your life?_ The pocket reminded him of the disordered trunk of the Impala, with guns and weapons in places that only Dean could sort through. Sam had a feeling if he ever went into the Impala's trunk, he'd get lost, never to be seen again. He dug through the pocket for a few moments, going by feel because, as he'd expected, the light from above didn't reach all the way to the bottom of the pocket. He managed to grab a few toothpicks, stuffing them in his satchel.

The floss was a little harder. He put one boot against the container, and yanked with all his might. It finally popped open, sending Sam flying back into the pile of crap in the corner of the pocket yet again. Luckily his landing was cushioned by the gauze sitting in that part of the pocket. He still had to dig himself out all over again, though, growling with annoyance. With the way his luck was going so far, his brother would come back and toss the bag off the bed before he even realized where Sam was.

With that thought in mind, Sam renewed his determination to get what he needed and get out. Nixie wasn't getting any better while he was wasting his time in here. He grabbed the floss, using his knife to hack off a dozen pieces as long as his arm. Whatever he didn't use now would probably come in handy later, and he didn't want to go through this all over again. He stuffed them in his bag next to the toothpicks, using one piece to wrap up the toothpicks so they wouldn't go anywhere when he climbed his way back to the table.

Grabbing the wrapped up gauze, he used his knife once more to saw off a long piece, stuffing it into his bag as well. He was almost out of space in the satchel with all this stuff.

He stood straight, staring up at the small hole above his head. Suddenly he found himself wishing he'd pulled the pocket all the way open. It seemed so small and so high up from this angle. Bracing himself as best he could on the constantly shifting ground, he jumped up, grabbing blindly with his hand. He snagged the edge, the teeth from the zipper cutting into his palm. Sam hissed in pain, gritting his teeth. Steeling himself, he hauled himself up with his other hand, happy when he finally tumbled out of the pocket and bounced down onto the bed, landing flat on his back.

He stayed like that for a few moments, relaxing in the open air with a shuddering breath. That was NOT an experience he wanted to go through more than once. Sitting up, he groaned, looking at how far away the table Nixie was on from him. At the least, she was still laying in the same place he'd left her in. Now if only he could just teleport over there, instead of going through all that climbing all over again. He hadn't climbed this much in ages.

He went to the side of the bed facing the other bed in the room and peered over. The cover here was farther down than anywhere else, and with any luck he'd be fine if he dropped down to the floor from there. Otherwise, he'd have to go all the way around to the other bed a second time. One good thing about being small - he could fall further than a human without getting hurt.

He twisted his bag so it was on his back, climbing down off the bed. He really wasn't looking forward to climbing back up the table later on. His arms were already burning from all this work, and the fishing line was far harder to climb up than climb down.

He had finally reached the floor when he heard two knocks come from far over his head, followed by the towering entrance door sweeping forward. Two massive boots walked in, which was all Sam could make out of his brother from where he was standing. Sam darted under the bed as fast as he could when he realized Dean had no idea where he was. The last thing he needed to do was tempt Fate more than he already had this afternoon.

After a few thudding steps into the room, the boots hesitated while facing the table. "Sam? Where are you?" Dean's voice rang out overhead, shaking the air around Sam from the volume.

Relieved, Sam walked out from under the bed, knowing Dean wouldn't take another step without first checking for Sam. _Thank God for small favors._ "Dean! Down here!" He called up, waving his arms.

The massive boots twisted towards Sam, stepping away as Dean knelt down on the floor. Sam came up alongside one of the hands Dean put on the floor for balance, feeling safe now that he had his brother's attention. "What are you doing down here?" Dean asked, sounding confused.

Sam waved one of the toothpicks he'd grabbed earlier up at his looming brother. "Nixie's wing was getting worse, and I wanted to get her fixed up. Needed supplies."

Dean gave him a look of disbelief, glancing between Sam and the duffel on the bed like he couldn't believe Sam had gone through all that. "You couldn't just wait for me to get back?"

Sam shrugged. "Didn't know how long you'd be, and she was just getting worse while we waited. So I figured I'd take care of it. Not like it's anything I haven't done before. I can handle myself."

Dean stretched out a hand alongside Sam, offering him a lift without having to ask. He waited patiently for his smaller brother to step on.

Grateful for the help, Sam braced himself as the hand lifted away from the ground, carrying him over to the table. At least he didn't have to make THAT climb again. Dean lowered him next to Nixie's collapsed form, plucking up Sam's fishing hook from the edge of the table to hand over to him. Sam tucked away his equipment and pulled out the supplies he'd risked his life to get, setting up to work on her right away.

Dean pulled off his suit jacket and tie while Sam worked, making an annoyed face when he tossed them on the bed. "Glad that's over," he said to himself.

Sam glanced in Dean's direction while he braced a toothpick against the wing. "So, how'd it go?" He asked curiously.

"Great. Got a name now." Dean sat in the chair nearest Sam, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. His huge arms landed on both sides of Sam and the sprite as he got settled, boxing them in with a solid wall of muscle. Sam gulped nervously, realizing Dean hadn't done it on purpose. It wasn't like Dean was going to try and _trap_ them or anything, he was just getting comfortable. Knowing this, Sam felt more out of place than ever. He and Dean saw the world completely different now - innocent movements from Dean came off as huge and threatening to Sam. It was nerve-wracking to be around someone so massive all the time.

"So, wh-what's the name?" Sam asked, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. It didn't work out the way he planned.

Dean arched an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment on it. "George Kenly. Local man. One day last week he just walked out of work, and hasn't been seen or heard from since."

Sam frowned while he concentrated on the wing. One of Dean's fingers came over and helped hold the wing straight while he wrapped the gauze around, bracing it with the toothpick and tying it with some floss. Sam nodded his thanks up at his brother. "You thinking possession?"

"Looks like. Good old fashioned demonic possession. Our demon must have picked up Lityerses for reasons of his own. Those bastards are always up to something."

Sam finished wrapping up the wing, wiping his hands off on his jacket. The main problem about using floss for this was the residue coating it. Whatever its use, it made a huge mess and made him smell overly minty. He glanced up at Dean once his hands at least felt clean. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, turns out George has a cottage in the woods. Very private. Once upon a time in his youth he'd use it to throw huge parties for his college buddies. I took a look at the maps of the area, there's a lot of small streams around where it is. With any luck, we can gank this demon, find Nixie a spring and take care of Lityerses. Easy as pie." One of the arms near Sam lifted off the table, and Dean rubbed his face. "You up on your exorcisms?"

"Exorcisms?"

* * *

><p>Roy stalked through the forest, as silently as he could manage.<p>

Ever since discovering the solid gold statue of his hunting partner, Walt, he'd been on a quest of vengeance for his long-time buddy.

This hunt had started out so simple.

They'd caught wind of a demon changing the nature of simple, gentle men into rapists and murderers. Always the same profile - young white male, seen as an 'outcast' either at work or school, and once they met up with the demon they would leave where they were as soon as possible - one from school, one at a café, and the third had been leaving church. After leaving, they would find the first petite brunette who was walking alone. And rape and kill her.

Roy honestly couldn't wait to stick it to the demon. The bastard deserved whatever they did to it. He was envisioning holy water, a little salt down the pipes, all before being exorcised. And of course, nothing fatal in case its meatsuit happened to still be living. As unlikely as that was, he needed to make every effort to save the man. Just like he hadn't been able to save his son all those years ago.

The case had taken an unexpected turn once they tracked the demon down to an obscure, out-of-the way cottage in the woods. Walt had gone in, while Roy hung back in case the demon slipped him.

Because of that, he had no idea how it happened.

By the time Roy realized the demon was gone from the cottage, it was all over. He walked carefully through the foliage, trying to avoid making any more noise than necessary. He came up to the statue, staring in amazement. Every detail was perfect, down to the scuff marks on Walt's boots.

"Walt? Is that you?" He reached a hand up, touching the face in disbelief. The golden eyes stared blankly ahead. "Dammit, Walt. What am I going to do without you?" Hearing footsteps through the forest, he slipped behind a tree. The demon walked past the statue without seeing Roy. He relaxed once the footsteps receded in the distance. If the demon was going out, it gave him time to set a trap, the best way to exorcise a demon, especially if you're on your own.

He went into the cottage.

* * *

><p>Dean goes to gather information and Sam goes on an adventure of his own! There's never a dull day with the boys!<p>

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!

Many thanks to Sophie's Lamp for help editing this chapter.

I made a charahub account with my characters from the Brothers Apart series. Link is on my profile for anyone interested. Character backgrounds and references fixed up, few small easter eggs that didn't make it into the stories yet and yea. Fun times.

As of today it has been updated with Walt and Mallory, Sam's adopted parents. I also went through and figured size references for the characters. I was bored at work yesterday. Really bored ;)

Fast and dirty version of the sizing: One inch for Sam is the equivalent of 1.604 feet. Makes Dean really tall comparatively (over a hundred feet tall)


	7. Rocky Road

**TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains very light and glossed-over mentions of rape.**

* * *

><p>With a huff of annoyance Dean pulled the Impala onto a side road that was barely visible. He didn't want to think about what this road was doing to the Impala's shocks. At least they should almost be at the house already.<p>

Sam was once again on his shoulder, but this time Nixie was sitting in his side pocket. She was having a harder time walking around now, so they'd decided she'd be safest somewhere she didn't have to move around much. At least in the pocket she would be safe and protected.

Dean growled when he felt another bump in the road jolt through his car. Small hands grabbed at his neck for balance. He slowed down the car, not wanting to toss Sam off by accident. "Sam, do you want to go in the pocket, at least until I park it?"

It was a moment before Sam replied, but after another sharp jolt that Dean hadn't seen coming, Sam said, "Uh, yeah, I think that might be a good idea."

Dean reached up, this time resolutely scooping Sam into a fist. There was no way he was chancing Sam falling off and getting hurt while stepping onto the hand. His tiny brother squirmed a bit in his grip, clearly uncomfortable how tight Dean was holding him. Pushing down the tiny bit of guilt he felt at how easily he could overpower Sam, Dean dropped him into his chest pocket. Determined to keep his brother safe, he buttoned it as soon as Sam was in. That way he couldn't fall out by accident if Dean had to hit the brakes fast.

Once Sam was secure, Dean relaxed a little. He upped the speed a bit, wanting to get to their destination as fast as possible. When he said 'cabin in the woods,' he hadn't been expecting miles and miles of non-road. The map had made the trip seem so simple. It wasn't even that far away.

After about ten more minutes of harrowing twists and turns, Dean ran out of road. With a groan, he thunked his head against the steering wheel. They were a mile away from where the map said the cabin was located.

"Hey, watch it out there, Godzilla," came a grouchy voice from his chest pocket, followed by a small poke that Dean recognized as Sam's attempt at a punch.

"Sorry," Dean said with a small laugh. "How you doin' in there?"

"I'd be better if I wasn't stuck in a pocket," the muffled voice grumbled. "Do you have any idea how much you've been tossing me around?"

Dean snorted. "Well, it's your lucky day then. Just ran out of road to drive on. We're hoofing it from here on out." He unbuttoned the pocket, taking some of the pressure off Sam.

Sam poked a grumpy, disheveled head out as soon as he could, firing up a glare at Dean soon after. "That was the worst trip ever."

"Yeah, well, just remember we gotta drive back later, Goldilocks. Don't get too excited 'bout it being over." Dean slipped his fingers into the pocket, scooping Sam up carefully into his hand. He hated how fragile his own brother felt in his grip - one second he wasn't paying attention could hurt or kill Sam.

Once Sam was all settled, Dean got out of the car and went to the trunk. He grabbed the supplies they would need for the hunt, tucking his holy water, salt gun and extra salt into the inner pockets of his jacket, along with a few other items he'd need for the exorcism. Demons never went down easy. With everything he needed hidden away, he reached into his side pocket, careful while he took Nixie out. They needed to keep her wings safe.

Once he had Sam sitting on his shoulder and Nixie cupped in a hand held against his stomach, Dean started his hike through the wilderness.

"Giddyap!" A small voice came from his shoulder. Sam, of course.

Dean hit him with a face full of 'really?' "I'm not a horse," he groused under his breath as he made his way down the small dirt path that had replaced the road. He stepped carefully over a deep puddle.

"Yeah, I know. Horses don't complain anywhere _near_ as much as you," Sam laughed.

Rolling his eyes, Dean shrugged his shoulder just enough to make Sam tumble against his neck. He hid a snicker while Sam righted himself, slapping a hand angrily against Dean's neck. Dean gave up hiding it and chuckled. "Watch it there, shorty, or you'll be walking back."

"Yeah, right. Like you'd ever leave me behind."

"You wanna test that?" When there was no reply from Sam, Dean smirked, knowing he'd won for the moment. Bringing his thoughts back to what was important, he said, "Alright sparky, focus. You know what the plan is?"

"Yeah, I got it," Sam said, sounding grouchy. "But what about Nixie? She's hurt... what if something happens to her?"

Her tiny voice chimed in, catching Sam and Dean both off guard. "I am well enough for what you plan. Do not worry about me here. Focus on Lityerses. We must stop him."

Dean laughed. "Can't argue with that." Picking up the pace, he tromped through the forest as fast as he dared with his little brother sitting on his shoulder.

* * *

><p>Content with how things were proceeding George strolled calmly through the woods. So far, his plans were all working out perfectly.<p>

He had not always gone by the name of George. It had taken many names over the years. And his birth name was so long gone that he could no longer recall it. The Pit had burned away his original name along with his humanity.

But he could remember the sin that had sent him there, bright in his mind after all the centuries of pain and torture. He had enjoyed those old days of plunder and rape. And after crawling his way out of Hell when a Devil's Gate had opened for a few precious moments, he had gone to continue fulfilling his destiny. Instigating the measly little yellow-bellied cowards to rape and murder had filled him with a satisfaction long lost in the fire. And he'd given those men a chance at greatness, giving their names an infamy that would outlive them by lifespans. They should thank him for his thoughtfulness.

His plans had changed once he found Lityerses, of course. A creature that could change everything he touched to gold was worth far more than a few little rapes in a few small towns. He had the chance to make a mark on the world. It might even work on other demons... give him a little revenge against his past torturers in the Pit. He smiled at that thought.

Even little hunters went down easy. They charged in, expecting a demon and got so much more. He would use Lityerses to wean them all out, destroying hunter and demon alike until George stood at the top. Then, he would find a way to send Lityerses himself into the Pit. Especially if he could find out how that nifty little power truly worked, and seize it for himself. If he could manage that, nothing would ever stop him. Not humans, not demons, not monsters.

George paused, sniffing the air. He could smell a _human_ in the forest. He smiled. Couldn't let Lityerses have _all_ the fun. He could handle one little hunter without a problem.

* * *

><p>Hearing footsteps approaching them in the woods, Dean gently dropped Sam and Nixie on the ground, right next to a bush they could duck behind for cover. Sam craned his neck back as Dean stood up, towering over them from this angle. "Sam, you know what to do?" He asked once he was standing upright.<p>

"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem." Sam called up. He patted the side of his bag reassuringly. "Got everything I need right here." As the boots stepped away, Sam turned to Nixie, who was far more at home in the foliage than he was. "Nixie, make sure to stay back. We can't afford to have anything happen to you - you're the only one who can break the Midas curse."

She moved away, almost blending into the background as she stepped back from him. The green of her clothes blended with the foliage. All that gave her away was the blue sheen of her skin. "You be careful as well. I would not want anything to happen to you or your brother. Sam."

Sam smiled as he turned to watch Dean's progress. Dean was only standing about ten feet away, but from Sam's point of view, it was hundreds of feet. It would take Sam too long to reach him if anything was to go wrong. He desperately hoped that this went off without a hitch, the way Dean planned.

A crunching through the forest pulled Sam's attention away from his brother. A man in a suit was walking through, woefully out of place in the surrounding greenery. Dean started to circle around him while the man stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "So, you must be one of the hunters with this sprite I've been hearing so much about!"

Confusion passed over Dean's face. "Sprite? What are you talking about, chuckles?"

"Oh, Dean. It doesn't suit you to dissemble. We both know who I'm talking about. Small, has wings - maybe injured?"

Dean reached a place behind the demon, who wasn't inclined to follow. He stopped for a second. "Sounds like you've been smoking the good stuff one time too many. And besides..." At this, Dean struck out, slamming into the demon. They both crashed to the forest floor, causing the ground under Sam to quake. "You talk too much."

Sam watched, unable to help as Dean struggled with the demon. His brother pulled out a flask of holy water, splashing the demon in the face. George hissed in pain when the water hit, causing steam to rise up into the air. Dean took that moment to duct tape his mouth closed, straddling the demons chest to keep him down. "Sam, do it now!" He yelled.

Sam grabbed his journal open, starting the exorcism they'd found in their father's journal, which Dean had him write down as soon as they knew what they would be facing. _"Exocizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio..."_

The demon shrieked through the duct tape as he started to feel the effects of the exorcism. Inhuman shrieks sent bolts straight through Sam's spine as he continued the recitation. Dean managed to get more holy water on him, but the moment the water stopped coming, the demon slammed his head into Dean's, sending Dean reeling. Dean found himself thrown off George's chest with an arm thrust. Tossed into the air, he slammed into the ground only a few feet away from Sam with a groan, knocking his little brother down from just the force of his landing.

Sam shot to his feet as fast as he could, mouth wide from shock as he watched the two behemoths struggle. He'd get crushed if they came any closer. He had a feeling he knew exactly how the people watching Godzilla and Mothra fight had felt.

As soon as the demon was free of Dean, he yanked off the duct tape and slammed another punch into Sam's brother. Dean groaned as the demon slammed him into the ground again. The demon's black eyes flicked over to Sam. "Is that little Sammy hiding over there? Ha! I know all about what happened to your precious _little_ family... after all those years protecting you, they died screaming, and they died burning! That's all the thanks you can give to anyone who takes care of you, isn't it?"

Sam froze, images from his families death flashing through his mind. The vision of how his mother burning alive... and finding only ash and char in the home afterwards. They wouldn't have been in any danger without him... It _was_ all his fault.

"Sam, don't listen to him!" Dean tackled the demon to the ground, taking advantage of its momentary distraction. They landed on the ground a foot away from Sam, Dean grappling with the demon for the upper hand.

Sam backpedaled as fast as he could while continuing the incantation, trying to put distance between himself and certain death. A small hand grabbed his arm, directing his flight so he could keep his full attention on the exorcism. He could hear Nixie's frightened breaths as she pulled him away.

"Demons can read minds, Sam, he's just using your fears against you!" Dean was out of breath, barely able to get out the words while grappling with the demon.

He had to concentrate. Dean was counting on him to finish this. _"Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos."_

He tripped over a leaf when the demon pulled free from Dean and shot a giant hand towards Sam and the sprite, angrily trying to reach the tiny hunter to stop him from finishing. Dean's massive fist slammed down on it, stopping the demon bare inches away from Sam. Sam gasped with relief as he stared at the fingertips stretching for him, trying to catch his breath. Dean refused to budge an inch, preventing the demon from reaching Sam with all his might. He was all that stood between Sam and certain death. Sam stumbled back up from his landing spot on the ground, staring up in shock at the creature determined to kill them. Black eyes glittered at him while Dean crushed the demon into the ground. Dean's arm started to shake from the effort, his hold never wavering.

"Sam, finish it! I've got him!" Dean yelled, the volume of his voice almost deafening the smaller Winchester.

Sam froze, bringing his full attention back to the journal in his hands. One more line and it was over.

_"Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri."  
><em>  
>At that, the demon's head snapped back. With a powerful roar, black smoke poured out of his mouth, congealing above Dean and George's heads. Once the smoke was out of him completely, it sunk down into the earth, returning to Hell. The hand reaching for Sam collapsed in place. Sam fell into a squat, breathing hard. Nixie rubbed his shoulder supportively, her wings quivering from the excitement.<p>

"Holy _crap,"_ Dean sat back with a sigh, pushing George's hand away from Sam. "You two alright? Got a little hot there for a minute."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be fine. Just... wasn't expecting that."

"Yeah, well the job can get pretty sticky sometimes. You did good, especially for your first exorcism. This definitely went smoother than my last one." Dean bent over the former demon's host body, checking for a pulse. "Well, Georgie-boy's alive. He's gonna have a fun time explaining where he's been all this time." A hand approached Sam and Nixie. "Ready to go?"

To both brothers' surprise, Nixie jumped on Dean's hand. "Yes! I can feel a spring close by!"

Sam joined her, wrapping his arm around her for support as the hand lifted them away from the ground. Dean pulled himself to a stand, holding the hand against his stomach. "Alright, where to?" His voice rumbled behind them reassuringly.

Nixie pointed away from the trail. Dean headed in that direction, long strides shortening the distance to their destination.

* * *

><p>Lityerses watched the human enter the cabin from the darkness within.<p>

He no longer needed light to see anymore, able to detect humans with the heat of their bodies and the sounds their motions made. Another point in favor of his new life. Simple humans were such frail, useless creatures. He had become so much more, so much stronger. Once he had the hang of the way this world worked, he would no longer even need the demon that had designated itself his guide to the modern realm. He would be able to create his kingdom with help from no one.

The human walked in, flipping a small white switch on the wall. It did nothing anymore. Once the demon had realized Lityerses' ability to see without light he had pulled the power. Any advantage taken from a slayer was well worth it.

Lityerses moved into the center of the cabin, stroking the table next to him as he walked. The human twitched towards the sound of footsteps, nervous in the dark. "Who's there?" He called out. "George, is that you? We need to have a talk, you and me."

Lityerses smiled. "Not George."

The human jerked his gun at the sound of Lityerses' voice. "You're that man we saw in the parking lot, aren't you?" He said, sounding angry. "The one who turned that man and my partner into statues?"

With a sneer, "Yes, of course. And you too, in a minute." He laughed, enjoying himself. After millennia spent alone with only ignorant little sprites for companionship, he enjoyed talking to someone closer to his level. Even if it was an enemy.

Roy held his gun straight, eyes flicking in the darkness. "Turn him back." He demanded angrily.

Lityerses sneered. "Why would I _ever_ want to do that? He's much better off the way he is now... immortalized forever."

Lityerses couldn't be sure if the human's eyes were adjusting. Perhaps it was time to cut this party short, in case the human _did_ have a way to stop him. He readied himself to leap...

Roy pulled the trigger, firing his gun point blank at Lityerses. Lityerses gasped when the bullet hit, slipping to his knees.

Hearing this, Roy smiled, confident the hunt was over. "Just what you deserve, you bastard." Then another sound came to him... a _clink_ on the ground.

A golden bullet fell away from Lityerses' unblemished skin, turned as soon as it hit him. Lityerses grabbed hold of the hunter's pants, turning him to gold even as he used the hunter's leg to stand up. By the time that Lityerses was standing straight again, the hunter was a solid, unmoving statue.

Lityerses grinned, admiring his reflection in the gold. _Soon, all will be like this in my kingdom..._ he enjoyed the thought, dreaming of what his future would be like now that the frailties of the flesh no longer afflicted him. He was finally free of all that. Free to pursue his last, and greatest love.

Turning his thoughts to the sprite, the only one who could stop him, he sniffed the air. She was close, and getting closer all the time. He would need to catch her first, off guard like when he'd been able to snap her wing. He had no doubt that was why it had taken her so long to track him down. Cutting off the flow of energy like that for a sprite was a crippling blow, so long as one kept them from water. He had discovered that after years of hunting them down in their forest. Only, in that realm water was everywhere, a spring of crystal clear water around every corner. It was impossible to keep them from refreshing their powers in a world like that.

Here, he had hoped she wouldn't be able to reach a fresh spring. This world was far dryer. The humans reprocessed all water they used, rendering it useless to a sprite. She must have found help. His fists clenched, sharp nails digging into his palm. A drop of blood fell to the ground, clinking when it hit, as golden as Roy. If only he'd appeared near her, he could have stopped her before she had a chance.

He left the cabin. There was still time to stop her from gaining back her magic.

* * *

><p>Dean heard footsteps approaching behind him in the forest. He leaned down to Sam and Nixie. "How far are we from the spring?" He said as softly as he could, trying to cover ground as fast as he could without knocking them around.<p>

Nixie turned up to him, flinching when she saw his face suspended directly above her, uncomfortably close. "We are close, but I cannot say exactly how far it is. My senses are muffled with my magic broken."

"Dammitall," Dean muttered. "There's someone behind us, and it's a safe bet to say it's not a hiker enjoying the night air."

Sam twisted around, meeting Dean's eyes. "What're you planning?" He called up.

Dean sighed. He hated what he had in mind for them, small and vulnerable as they were, but he didn't see any other way this would work out. "Look, you two will have to get to the spring alone. He's gonna catch up fast, and Nixie's not up to speed yet." The crashing came again, closer than ever. Dean glanced back, and couldn't stop a shiver when he saw two trees nearby change in color, gold shooting up and taking over down to the last leaf. He dropped to his knees, gently sliding Sam and Nixie off in the underbrush. "Stay safe, you two. I'll see you on the other side."

Before Sam could protest, _and he will,_ Dean smiled to himself knowingly - Sam was nothing if not predictable and persistent - he stood up, stepping away from them. Any words said by Sam were drowned out by the crunching of Dean's footsteps. With any luck, Lityerses wouldn't be able to see them down on the ground like that. He could only hope that they took his direction and set out towards the spring.

A man stepped around one of the golden trees. Cold eyes took in Dean and slid away, examining the rest of the area. "Where is she?" He demanded.

"Well, based on the wardrobe, I'm guessing that _you_ must be Lityerses. I've heard so much about you." Dean grinned, continuing to put distance between himself and where he'd left the others. "Can I get your autograph? On regular paper, not gold. Gold is so... last season."

Lityerses sneered at him. "Gold is all I do."

"So I hear. Sounds a little... boring. I mean, I love gold as much as the next guy, but I have to admit... there are other things in life I enjoy just as much." Dean circled around Lityerses, pulling his gun from his pants with practiced ease. "I mean, have you ever had a bacon cheeseburger?" He closed his eyes in faked ecstasy. "Never had something taste better."

"Ha, I have no need of food like you pitiful humans! So easily weakened just by taking one thing away!"

"Funny, you call us pitiful." He kept circling around. He was hoping Lityerses would forget the direction he'd come from, losing Sam and Nixie's trail in the process. His heart went out to his miniature brother, alone in the gigantic forest with only a broken sprite for company. With any luck, he could keep Lityerses distracted long enough for them to get to the stream. "We're not the ones turning everything to gold like greedy little children."

Lityerses took a step towards Dean, holding out both hands with clear intention. Dean cocked his gun. "Not another step, Zeus-wannabe."

Lityerses growled at him. "I have nothing to do with any of those false gods."

Dean arched his eyebrows. "Hey, I actually agree with you there. I've never been one to believe in any gods. Just what I can see." He aimed the gun, standing straight. "Just... You might want to work on your fashion statement if you don't want to associate with them these days."

A few moments of silence passed with them standing there, poised. Each was waiting for the other to make the first move. Dean held back as long as he could, knowing that every second he bought them here gave the others another second to save the day.

Lityerses twitched, and then jumped at Dean. With a yell, Dean leapt backwards, firing his gun straight between Lityerses' eyes. The second the bullet hit, it flattened against Lityerses' brow, dropping to the ground as a harmless gold disc.

Dean's eyes widened as he stumbled away. He'd only gained a second from the shot. Lityerses dove at him again, fingers grasping at him. One finger brushed his jacket, sending gold streaks shooting up it. Dean had it off in seconds, dropping it to the ground before any of the tendrils could reach his skin. The jacket solidified on the ground, turning into an unmoving lump of solid gold.

"Hey douchebag, my cell phone was in there!" Dean growled out while playing keep-away from the grasping fingers. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to play nice with others?"

He dove back from another wild grab. Lityerses hissed at him. "My _mother_ never taught me anything at all! And my father spent all his time with precious Zoë. Even those little sprites got more love and affection than I ever did! I _will_ get my comeuppance!"

Dodging around another wild lunge by Lityerses, Dean's foot slipped under a hidden root. Arms flailing, he tried to catch his balance, grabbing for one of the saplings nearby. His hand instead found something soft, radiating an icy cold. He tried to pull his hand back, but he could clearly see the gold tendrils winding up his arm now. An icy lump clenched his stomach as he realized he wasn't going to be doing anyone any good in a few seconds.

Lityerses smiled, grabbing Dean's other arm. The gold started to spread up both sides. He leaned forward, his dark eyes staring coldly into Dean's green ones with sickening glee. Dean tried to pull away from him, but neither arm responded. Lityerses grinned. "Check and _mate,"_ he hissed into Dean's ear. The gold reached his chest, climbing up his face. The last thing Dean saw was those cold eyes boring into his.

Then nothing.

* * *

><p>Warnings up for slight usage of rape... sorry, wanted something demonic for dear old George.<p>

So... I'm in hiding until next week...you'll never find me!

...under all the snow we're getting this weekend.

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!

Got help editing from Sophie's Lamp!


	8. Building Trust

Nixie grabbed the nape of Sam's shirt, hauling him off the ground for the third time in a row.

"Thanks," he muttered to her, annoyed that she seemed perfectly at home here on the forest floor. Sam was tripping over every dead branch and leaf that blew into his path.

She flashed him a quick smile over her shoulder in a completely out-of-character attempt to make him feel better. "You humans need to get out more often. You live in a world of straight edges and manufactured sunlight. This is _my _world. Pure, untamed, wild. Perfect."

Sam twisted in place when he felt something crawling up his back. Nixie kicked a small spider off him. "Yeah, I'll, uh... take the human world, thanks. Bigger than me or not. I'm not made to be able to survive here at this size." He dug his knife out of his jacket, ready for the next creepy-crawly to cross his path.

Ever since watching Dean step away from them, it had been a constant battle of survival for Sam. Where Nixie was able to walk straight through, he would run into dangers he hadn't even known existed. One leaf he'd stepped on had collapsed into a small pitfall, leaving Nixie to haul him out ass backwards. Spiders had jumped him three times now, and he tripped over every dead branch in his path. Before now he'd thought he was a bit more graceful, but next to Nixie he felt like a lumbering Sasquatch.

Her footsteps were light and graceful. Even without her wings she passed over the forest floor like a ghost, barely moving the leaves she stepped on. If he hadn't been standing next to her, he wouldn't have known she existed. Her clothes, so odd before, now served to blend into the mottled backdrop. If she left him she would fade into the dark better than a chameleon.

Of course, earlier she had told him that would not be enough to escape her brother. _We are close enough now that he senses me as well I sense him. All he needs do is follow that sense. Without your brother Dean there to stop him I would already have been taken. He would never allow me near water of any type again. I would live on, a broken sprite for all eternity while he destroys this realm and moves on to the others._

"I'm starting to think you'd've been better off going without me. I'm just slowing you down," Sam admitted. He dared to glance over his shoulder, where he could hear Dean arguing with Lityerses in the background. Huge crashes came to them as Dean dodged every blow thrown at him. Sam prayed he'd be able to keep Lityerses busy long enough for them to reach their destination. They were making bad time with him along for the ride.

"That is not true, Sam," Nixie protested. "Remember, without you and Dean I would not have made it anywhere close to here."

"Yeah, but I'm not meant to find my way through the forest like this. You might be better off going on without me." Even he could hear burbling in the distance now, signaling how close they were to their goal.

She shook her head, and stubbornly grabbed Sam's arm. "You _will_ come with me, Sam. Dean would not forgive if anything were to happen to you."

Pulling him along, she continued to push through the underbrush. Sam let her lead him. It wasn't like he _wanted_ to be left alone in this world... huge trees towering above... the sounds of predators in the night... Sam doubted he'd make it ten minutes on his own. But it bothered him, knowing he was slowing her down. Every second they wasted was another second Dean could lose his fight.

He tripped over a fourth branch as they approached another tree trunk. Picking himself off the ground again, he glanced up, trying to spot the top of the towering trees. The darkness of the night closed in around them now, only leaving a few of the bottom branches be visible.

Sam's heart sank when he realized he couldn't hear anything from Dean or Lityerses anymore. He twisted around, pulling his arm out of Nixie's grasp. He could see Dean and Lityerses standing face to face in the distance, but...

"No..." Sam whispered. Lityerses had both hands on Dean's arms, and gold was slowly creeping up them. He could see the realization hit Dean's face, blossoming into shock. "Dean..."

Nixie grabbed his arm again. "Sam, we do not have the time!"

He shrugged her off. "Go, I'll hold him off."

Her eyebrows arched up. "What can _you_ do to stop him?"

Sam sighed, grabbing onto the tree next to him and starting to climb up. "I don't know, but it'll have to be enough. Just... get to the spring! I'm counting on you! And so is _Dean!"_

It was only a minute before he heard the giant footsteps start up again, crashing in his direction. He snuck a peek at Nixie, seeing her steadily make her way through the leaves on the ground. From this point of view, he could see the spring. It was tiny, but clear water bubbled up from the ground, cascading down rocks into a small stream. With any luck, she'd be there in less than five minutes. He only had to hold off Lityerses for that long.

_Yeah, hold off a guy twenty times my size who can turn anything he touches to gold. Simple._

By the time Lityerses reached his tree, Sam had pulled himself up onto a branch a few inches over Lityerses' head. He stood at his full height, snapping off a small branch. The moment Lityerses passed under him, he chucked it at his head.

Lityerses reached his hand up, brushing the twig out of his hair. His head twisted up, dark eyes peering up into the tree. "Who is there?" He demanded. "I have already removed three slayers from this world, one more will be no problem. I have a sprite to stop."

Assuming he was talking about Dean and the others, Sam laughed. "Wow, three slayers. I'm _so_ impressed. Because I'm sure that where you come from, anyone who picks on those weaker than them was respected and revered. After all, just a touch and your enemies turn to gold, right? I mean, that's not even _fair."_

Lityerses narrowed his eyes, searching for the source of the voice. "And who are you to question me?"

Sam stepped out of the shadow of the branch so Lityerses could see him. Nixie must almost be at the spring... he only needed to give her a few more minutes.

Seeing him, Lityerses laughed. "You? You are the last, great defense against me?" He snorted. "You are _nothing,_ little bug."

"Yeah, maybe. But at least I don't pick on those weaker than me."

With a scowl, Lityerses growled. "I don't have time for this." He reached out, stroking the trunk of the tree Sam was on. Gold started to streak up, filling the tree with intricate lacings.

Sam stumbled away, backing from the trunk of the tree. The gold didn't stop its march towards him. _Shit..._ he thought to himself. Lityerses started to back away with a sneer on his face as he watched Sam desperately scramble away. Seeing his chance, Sam took aim, bracing himself against the branch.

Before the gold tendrils met his boots, he jumped.

Flying through the air, he didn't even have time for a quick prayer. If he missed in the slightest, it was all over. He'd either be a pancake on the ground, or a tiny gold statue to match his brother. He closed his eyes.

After what must have been endless seconds of flight, he slammed into something hard, and solid. He cracked opened his eyes, seeing the golden rose amulet he'd landed on. _I did it,_ he thought in amazement. He'd managed to grab onto the amulet that gave the power of the golden touch!

"Hey douchebag!" He shouted up at the giant whose neck he was hanging from. "What goes around comes around!"

He punched Lityerses.

To his utter astonishment, it worked. Gold started to spider out from his touch, webbing in all directions. Sam yanked his hand away from the golden chest. Him grabbing the amulet must have taken the power from Lityerses, turning it against its owner. A huge shock of relief coursed through Sam. He hadn't believed it would work.

"NO!" Lityerses shouted, almost deafening Sam. He grabbed at the amulet, pulling it away from his chest. Sam closed his eyes against the bile that rose from the swift swaying motion. Lityerses reached his other hand at Sam, going to grab him in a fist. But the gold stopped him from being able to reach any further. It consumed the rest of his body, making him into what he wanted the rest of the world to be. Cold, lifeless. Gold.

Sam sighed with relief when the hands stopped grabbing at him. It was over. He'd thought he was done there for sure for a few seconds. On the other hand, he was now hanging, suspended 6 feet in midair clutching a rose amulet. Sam leaned his head against the rose, his hands starting to lose feeling in them. His stomach clenched with nausea as the amulet continued to sway in midair.

After a few moments of him concentrating on not falling, he saw a blue light shoot up from the small spring. Water arched into the air, spiraling around a glowing ball in two columns of glowing light. The glowing ball bobbed its way over to Lityerses and Sam, coming to a swift halt right next to Sam. The light faded, revealing Nixie at the center.

She took one look at Sam dangling in midair and sighed. "Well, _that_ was anticlimactic. You needed me here why, again?"

Sam felt his hands start to slip as they grew sweaty from exertion. "Uh, Nixie? Anytime."

She laughed. "Of course." Her small hands slipped under his arms, lifting him down. She lowered him to a mossy rock raised above the ground. Flitting back up, she freed the amulet from Lityerses' cold grasp as well. Dropping back down to Sam, she held out the amulet. He watched in amazement as the water around her surrounded it, wrapping it in the rippling blue light of her magic. The amulet dwindled down in her grasp until it was smaller than her pinkie. She tucked it into her shirt, safely away.

"I will go free the others," she whispered to him. "Be safe. I will be fast."

There was a streak of blue light, and she was gone.

Sam hugged his jacket to him, eyes nervously darting around at the dark world that surrounded him.

* * *

><p>It was cold.<p>

And dark.

Dean couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. The silence was deafening, the absence of all his senses pure torture.

From what he could gather, from memories disjointed by his affliction, he was trapped. The last clear memory he had was of Lityerses' hands gripped around his arms, the icy coldness spreading up both, spreading out from the clenched fingertips. And then everything went black. Ever since then, he had been locked in the darkness. He wasn't even sure anymore that he still had a body - it had been so long since he could feel anything but the cold. The biting, unforgiving cold of the grave.

Time crawled by endlessly, with no ability to mark its passing.

There was no way for him to know if Sam was alright or if he'd been trapped same as Dean. He could only wait, and hope, and pray that his brother would be able to get Nixie to the freshwater spring, healing her wing so she could remove the curse from Dean and the others affected.

Hopefully Lityerses wouldn't get to him too.

Trapped like this, Dean fretted in the dark limbo. It may have only been minutes that had passed since he was trapped... or hours... days. Years. An eternity of darkness. A new kind of Hell. The torment of not knowing.

Alone in the dark, he was forced to dwell on what had become of his brother. Was Sam okay, had Lityerses captured him, killed him, turned him to gold... every second became an eternity of suffering.

The solitude made him fear he had let Sam down... his small, vulnerable brother out in the world alone... no protection, no way home. Even if he escaped Lityerses, without Dean there would be no way for him to get out off the forest. They were miles from civilization, and even further for people Sam's size. He would be trapped, forced to fend for himself until killed by Lityerses or a forest predator.

After an endless amount of time like this, Dean felt an unexpected warmth start to spread. His nose twitched. It took a few moments of stunned disbelief to soak that in. He could FEEL his NOSE twitch!

From there, the warmth spread outward, washing through him like a warm tub of water pouring down his body. The blackness turned to grey and he realized his eyes were open.

There was a fluttering near his cheek, forcing his eyes to try and focus. A solid grey wall became blurry grey shapes, became colored shapes, became small colored blobs and then it all snapped back into focus. He let out a gasp when he saw what was hovering next to his face, jerking back in shock. "N-Nixie!" He managed to gasp, his voice rough from his time as a statue, dryer than a bone. "Your wings... they're fixed!"

She giggled, flying close to his face again. Dean held his breath, nervous about someone so small flying around him like that. It just wasn't natural to have a tiny girl buzzing around his head.

Her wing was repaired, all four surrounded in a glowing radiance. All the bruises were gone from her body, her skin as pristine and flawless as a crystal. The beauty she exuded was otherworldly, ethereal.

She twitched one of her arms at him. "Open your mouth," she said in a commanding voice.

Dean couldn't bring himself to argue with her. He opened his mouth, and a small stream of water trickled in, washing away the last pains from being a statue. It was the coldest, purest water he'd ever tasted. "Wow," he muttered to himself. Water had never tasted so good.

Once the water stopped flowing, she caught his gaze again. "Sam took good care of me. For such a small human, he is very brave. Come, your brother, he waits for us." She darted away from him, flitting between the trees. Nothing but a sparkling blue trail showed her passing.

Dean took a step forward, and almost fell flat on his face. His legs were slammed by the worst pins and needles he'd ever felt before, made worse by the time he'd spent as a statue for who-knows-how-long. With a groan, he picked up his jacket and hesitantly followed the fading trail Nixie left. He could only hope it led to Sam.

He kept a careful eye on the ground, just in case.

* * *

><p>Sam sat on the mossy rock, lonely in the dark.<p>

Nixie had been gone for an hour now, because of all the distance she had to cover to reach the first statues that Lityerses had turned in that parking lot. He hoped she'd be back soon, and wished she'd thought to change Dean back before leaving. It was a sobering feeling sitting out here alone in the dark. A stark reminder of his helplessness. Everything towered over his head to an all new level of immensity. He missed the reassuring feeling he got with Dean around. And without Dean, he would never get out of this forest. They were at least a mile in by hiking, even more that Dean had driven. And Sam would never be able to drive a car himself. Or even get into the car.

With any luck, the statue standing above him would dissuade the predators that might seek him out as a midnight snack. It sucked being this small with nowhere to hide. But if he left this rock, his brother might not be able to find him. He had to wait here for Nixie and hope.

He kept a hand on his knife, just in case.

It was better than nothing.

Another half hour passed, and a blue light approached him in the dark. It bobbed through the night like a sparkling will-o-wisp. Sam turned, smiling when he saw the small sprite, trailed by the glimmering water from earlier, although there was far less of it now. She alighted on the rock next to him, landing without a sound.

"It is time for me to return home," she said softly, reaching up to stroke his face.

"Dean... is he..."

"Your brother is fine. He will be here soon. He worries for you so." She smiled at him. "This, you and your brother have earned." As blunt as always, she handed him a clear orb that rippled in the soft blue light that emanated from her wings. "If you are ever in dire need, break this and I or a sister of mine will come for you. It is water, bathed in the power of my sisters. We are indebted to you and Dean, Sam."

Sam stared up at her at this, unsure what to say. "Nixie..." He said.

With that said, she leaned into a brief embrace. Sam breathed in her scent - a clean scent that reminded him of mountains and forests, clouds and freedom. While she held him this way, she whispered in his ear. "Sam? Trust your brother. He means well, even if he has trouble showing it." A small peck on the cheek and she was gone.

The blue lights around her sparkled faster, twisting into a vortex of power. She and Lityerses disappeared into it, the vortex closing with a ripple behind her.

Sam dropped his hand from his cheek, where she'd kissed him. The cheek tingled from her touch. The remaining blue lights circled, slowing down over time. The orb he carefully tucked away in his bag.

Loud footsteps came from behind him, passing over the foliage on the ground that had given Sam such a hard time getting through not so long ago. Sam craned his neck to see Dean step up behind him, boots bigger than the rock he was standing on coming to a halt right behind his small sanctuary in the night. Dean's eyes were as round as Sam's as he watched the portal dissipating into the darkness. The sparks died off, leaving them standing in the darkness, surrounded by trees.

A small rippling effect briefly ran through the ground as the portal winked out. Mushrooms sprouted in a circle, growing to full-size before slowing down. The grass ripened, growing greener and more vibrant as it sucked up some of the leftover magic. Even the spring had a surge of power, bubbling up with more force. A delicate fairy circle was left there, and would always remain as proof of Nixie and her dark brother, given power and life by the small Fae's spell.

Dean knelt down next to the rock once it was just the two of them. "You alright there, Tom Thumb?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic. It was awesome, getting my ass handed to me just walking on the forest floor. I don't think I'm cut out for camping on my own anymore."

Dean smirked at that. "Good thing you had Nixie with you then, protecting you from all that danger." He dropped a hand next to Sam.

Sam batted away Dean's proffered hand in annoyance. "Hey, I'll have you know I took Lityerses down on my own, while you were busy being a golden garden gnome over there!"

His brother raised his brow at that in disbelief. "Really."

"Yeah, I was trying to distract him from Nixie the way you were earlier. Turns out if you jump off a tree and grab the amulet, you can change its wearer into gold, instead of the other way around."

"Huh. Didn't see that one coming." Then the rest of Sam's story sunk in. Dean's eyes widened. "You jumped off a _tree?"_

Realizing his mistake far too late, Sam stammered "Uuhhh..." helpfully. He backpedaled from Dean as fast as he could, knowing his brother would overreact. It didn't do him any good, of course. It was impossible to run from someone so much bigger.

A huge hand swooped down, snatching him easily off the rock as Dean stood back up. "You leaped off a goddamned tree, _at_ a guy who would happily skewer both of us alive or at the very least turn you into a tiny little hunter ornament to hang off his rearview mirror? That about cover it?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Sam protested, trying to catch his balance on the moving flesh under him as Dean stood to his full height. It was hard to be convincing when he couldn't even get his feet under him. Completely unfair.

Dean sighed angrily down his nose at Sam. "Sam, you need to be more careful! I can't lose you so soon after only just finding you!"

Sam finally pulled himself to a stand when the hand stopped moving. "Dean, I'm _fine,_ so stop freaking out about it! I took out the bad guy, didn't I? And everyone's okay now. Nixie saw to that. It all worked out."

"Fine, whatever." Dean snapped angrily. "But you're staying in the pocket till we reach the motel room, Tarzan."

And from his tone of voice Sam somehow knew any of his protests about _that_ would fall on deaf ears.

* * *

><p>Later that night found the two brothers sitting together to watch a movie - <em>Godzilla vs. Mothra,<em> to make up for the way Dean had so rudely interrupted the last showing Sam had tried to watch on his own. Neither of them had said much to each other since getting back from the woods, just quietly watching the movie. The whole time Sam sat on a plush pillow and Dean relaxed on the other half of the bed. Dean's eyes occasionally flicked over to Sam, like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

Sam tried to ignore that as much as possible. He just wanted to watch the movie, go to bed and pretend nothing had ever happened. Every time Dean picked him up without warning it felt like a little more of his independence was sapping away. He hated that feeling.

Once the movie was over, Sam stood up on the pile and stretched out his arms. He wobbled slightly and started to make his way to the nightstand, ready to turn in for the night.

"Hey, Sam, wait."

Sam paused, halfway off the bed. There was something in Dean's tone... He sounded serious.

He climbed back up, curious what was up with his brother.

Dean reached a hand towards Sam, stopping a few inches away. Sam stared at it for a minute, and glanced back up at Dean suspiciously.

Dean sighed. "Just... get on. Please. We need to talk."

Sam hesitantly stepped on. After being unwillingly scooped off the ground earlier that day he wasn't overly happy with Dean. Plus, he was still grouchy about being buttoned up in the pocket during the ride home. He refused to admit Dean had been right about that. It _had_ been the car ride from Hell, bounced all over the place even with the pocket closed against him falling out. Both times. He was certain the ride home had been worse since Dean didn't have Nixie sitting in a pocket to worry about, but the last thing he wanted to do was bring it up to Dean. At least the ride had been quicker.

Dean lifted him to chest level, holding his hand far enough out to be able to get a good look at Sam. "Sam, are you alright?"

This question caught Sam off guard. He'd been expecting more anger about him being reckless earlier. "Yeah, I'm fine." He said, avoiding Dean's eyes.

Dean smiled with relief at that. "Good."

Sam squirmed a little on the hand, feeling exposed the way he was suspended in the air. "Was there anything else, or did you go through all this just to check how I was doing? Cause I'm tired, sore, and ready for bed."

Dean sighed again. _Better just get it over with._ "Sam, I'm sorry about earlier."

"You were... wait, what?" Sam said, surprised. An apology was the last thing he'd expected.

Dean closed his eyes. "You were right about Nixie... about giving her a chance. I'm sorry I didn't want to listen... Sam, I _do_ need to trust you more. It's just... I've been hunting alone for a long time. Even before Dad up and vanished he rarely went on hunts with me. I know that." Sam blinked with surprise at the sudden outpouring of emotion from Dean. The hand holding Sam lifted up higher until his entire line of sight was filled by two stern green eyes. "Sam, I do need to trust you more. But... you need to trust me too. Or even admit to yourself you _don't_ trust me. Sam, I'd never let anything happen to you. You _have_ to know that."

Sam tucked his head against his chest, solemn. "Yeah," he muttered. His face burned with shame, remembering how Nixie had told him much the same thing about Dean before she left. "Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you all at once." Dean lowered his hand back down. "I'll let you get to bed now. You want me to put you down on the floor?"

Sam stayed quiet for a few moments, staring down at the fingers holding him up. Dean pulled the hand back up, trying to catch Sam's eye. "Hey, you okay?" He said softly, concern tinging his voice.

Sam pulled himself out of his mind funk. "Yeah, I was just thinking." He peered up at Dean. "Do... would you mind if I slept in your pocket again?"

"Uh, sure? You're welcome to sleep there whenever. But... I thought you hated the pocket. Especially after being stuck in it earlier."

Sam smiled. "It's not as bad as I thought it was. And I know it had to happen earlier... I just hated being trapped like that, even when there's a good reason for it. Honestly, despite earlier, it's probably the only place I feel safe at night right now. Especially with the nightmares hitting me almost constantly, after... my..." Sam trailed off, eyes getting wet from memories. He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"And... Dean, I _do_ trust you. It's just hard sometimes." Sam gestured down at the hand supporting him, brushing his hand lightly against the rough skin on the thumb next to him. He could almost sink his fingers into the ridges that covered it, he was so small. The thumb rubbed carefully against his side in response, almost as thick around as Sam's entire body, and as much as he hated to admit it, far more powerful. "I'm not used to being this much smaller than the people around me. All these years this size, I was only around my family, or friends this size. I avoided humans completely. I mean, if you want to, you can just grab me, stuff me in your pocket and that's it. Like earlier. I'm too small to do anything about it, can't stop you, can't get out. It's not a great feeling, to be trapped like that, unable to do _anything_ to help yourself. Helpless."

Dean blinked in surprise, face turning red in dismay. "Sam, I never meant to make you feel that way." He said quietly, in realization. "I just... you were..." He rubbed the back of his neck, upset at the revelation._"...Dammit."_

"Dean, I know you didn't. But the fact remains that it happened, and it'll probably happen again. Even though you mean well, when that happens, you have to remember I have no choice in the matter. I can't stop you like this. And you also have to remember that I'm still getting used to this. It's a lot to throw at a guy all at once, and living with someone so big… it makes it _hard_ for me to trust you completely... but I'll do my best Dean, I promise."

Dean smiled back, touched. "That's all I ask. And I'll do better with grabbing you. You have my word. I _never_ want you to feel helpless with me. Because you're _not_ helpless. Not with me. And you never will be. I just... Sam, I just want to keep you _safe,_ that's all." His fingers unconsciously curled around Sam's small form.

Sam patted one of the fingers curled nearest him reassuringly. "Yeah, I know you do."

They sat like that in a companionable silence for a few more minutes. Eventually, Dean glanced at the time, blinking in surprise when he saw how late it was. They hadn't gotten back from the forest until past midnight. "Well then, guess you're bunking with me for the night, kiddo."

Shutting off the TV, Dean settled back onto the pillows. He lowered his hand to his chest, letting Sam slide off in the center. Sam wandered slowly over to the side pocket, concentrating on his footing. It was hard to keep his balance on the constantly moving chest. He could feel every bone, every muscle under his socked feet, flexing in time as the mammoth chest rose and fell with each breath. Dean let out a rumbling sigh as he leaned back into the pillows to get comfortable, the ground itself vibrating under Sam's feet.

For once, he didn't get that familiar, helpless feeling that usually came over him at the realization of how much smaller he really was compared to his brother. This time, it was reassuring, an understanding that this giant hunter he was standing on would do anything for him. Even if he _was_ slightly overprotective on occasion. Sam knew he couldn't completely blame Dean for that - Dean, at the back of his mind, blamed himself for what had happened to Sam all those years ago when they were first separated. Knowing Dean, he probably always would.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dean eyeing him curiously. Sam pointedly ignored his older brother. He supposed it was odd to have someone walking across your chest like that, two small feet padding along like they were out for a hike. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have someone so small sleep in his pocket. Hell, he had trouble imagining anyone less than _half_ his size.

Once he reached the pocket, he slipped down, once again enjoying the rare warmth and security he found there, exactly the way he remembered it from before. In here, he was protected from a world he just wasn't made to survive in alone.

Sam glanced up from where he was laying for the night. From where he was lying down, all he could make out was the underside of Dean's jaw, tilted off to the side as he got ready to sleep. "Goodnight!" Sam called up.

The jaw moved. "'Night, Sammy." Dean said with a smile in his voice. There was a pause. "You know, tonight has been one long chick flick moment, right?"

Sam grinned at that, remembering Dean's old aversion to 'touchy, feely' crap. "Dude, never mind the chick flicks. We just had a full on girly slumber party back there."

Dean laughed, unknowingly shaking both his pocket and Sam with the resulting vibrations. "Well, Samantha, I'm definitely _not_ doing your nails."

Rolling his eyes, Sam dug his heels into the chest under him. There was no outward reaction from Dean.

"Sam?" Dean called a few moments later.

"Yeah?"

"We made a hell of a team back there, didn't we?"

Sam smiled at that. "Yeah, we did."

He could hear a smirk in Dean's voice. "Hey. Now remember, just because you gank one demon and a megalomaniac from another dimension doesn't mean you're ready to take on the world. But," and here Dean paused for a moment. "I'm definitely gonna be relying on you to watch my back from here on out." His voice trailed off into silence.

A swell of pride built up in Sam at Dean's words. Hearing that assurance from Dean meant everything to him. It meant Dean had accepted him as a hunter, size be damned.

Once the silence stretched past a minute, Sam stole one last glance up at his brother before rolling over and getting settled, deep in the pocket. The pocket flap he folded, turning it into a slightly flattened pillow. He pretended not to notice the hand Dean carefully draped over him as the lights went out. Comforted by the consistent movement of Dean's breathing, he slipped into a dreamless slumber, surrounded by everything he'd come to realize meant 'home' to him.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly safe.

_**FIN**_

* * *

><p>Oh my goodness, the end is already here! I can't believe it! It all passed by far to fast this time.<p>

Hope everyone enjoyed the ride! Have no fear, the series is far from over... I have much planned for this pair :D I hope everybody's enjoying the ride as much as I am.

Sam, that was totally the cheesiest thing you could say at the end there. You've been hanging out with Dean to much. He's rubbing off on you.

Once again, for the names in the story, Nixie stands for Water Sprite, and Lityerses is a figure from the King Midas Legends.

Bonus - if anyone was wondering what goddess Nixie was praying to in the first chapter, the answer is Dionysus.

Thanks for all the comments and reviews! They absolutely make my day!

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